UC-NRLF 


B    M    DTfl    Ofll 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

WILLIAM  C.  HABBERLEY 


Edward  Garrett 


A   STORY   OF   MJRS 


HARRY    PORTER 


Copyright  June  9,  1908;     Copyright  in  Great  Britain  by 
"jf antes  Henry  Porter 

9ltte  9ied)te  borbefjaiten. 


LINCOLN    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 

56  LINCOLN  STREET,   BOSTON,   MASS.,   U.S.A. 

1909 
Price  $1.25  Net        Price  55.  6d.  prepaid 


GIFT 


EDWARD  GARRETT 

REPRESENTING 

CONRAD  ALMONT. 

JOHN  ALMONT,    son    of    Conrad,     friend    of 
Garrett. 

CHARLES  ALMONT,  son  of  Conrad,  friend  of 
Verness. 

VERNESS,  a  gentleman. 
ROYAL  CARROLL,  a  gentleman. 
ANTHONY,  cousin  of  Carroll. 
EDWARD  GARRETT. 
OLT,  BEN,  robbers,  friars,  servants,  etc. 
MARION  ALMONT,  daughter  of  Conrad. 
MARY  CARROLL,  sister  of  Royal. 
AGNES  NANCE. 
HOSTESSES,  etc.,  etc. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I.     Before  a  cottage,  GARRETT  ahorse, 
COTTAGER  and  BOY. 

Gar.     And    what    said     I    my    name?     Pretty 

blushet, 

Dreaming  dolt,  and  have  you  so  soon  forgot? 
Boy.     Good. 


4  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Gar.  Well,  that's  good  enough ;   bright  light 

of  wit. 
Old  man,  take  him  and  treat  him  as  you  can; 

[To  Cottager. 

Foster  it  and  see  it  grown  to  manhood. 
And  I  charge  thee,  rear  him  well.     Be  it  so. 
I  just  took  him  from  a  band  of  gypsies. 
Now,  indeed,  find  his  parents  if  thou  canst. 
They  stole  him  and  I  just  took  him  from  them. 
Five  miles  to  rear  I  met  a  native  son. 
Said  he,  "  Hold!   Ho,  Garrett,  highwayman.    Stop! 
You  stole  that  boy."     And  then  I  said,  "You  he. 
Then  he  grabbed  my  halter ;  then  drew  his  sword ; 
He  lunged,  yea,   and  sure  would  have  struck  the 

boy; 

Then  I  knocked  him;    his  soul  is  soaring  now. 
The  whole  town  will  be  mad  in  my  pursuit. 
Now,  in  his  training  lavish  not  too  much 
On  finer  niceties,  and  that  his  soul 
May  be  not  small,  nor  picayune  of  heart. 
But  dwell  upon  his  greatness  and  all  that; 
The  expansiveness  of  his  attainments; 
His  excellence,  majesty,  mastery, 
And  the  magnitude  of  his  creation. 
Impress  on  him  anent  his  nobleness; 
And  that  when  he  grows  unto  be  a  man 
He  will  be  noble  as  the  ocean's  broad: 
And  so  when  he  begins  to  know  himself 
He  will  be  grace  and  depth  and  loveliness. 
Ah,  we  admire  to  see  a  man  where'ere; 
For  in  his  carriage  there's  deportment,  air; 
He's  charming,   he  is  gentle,  he  is   fair.— 
All  time  ever  was  or  ever  will  be 
'S  interested  in  this  lad  I  bring  thee; 


ACT  I,  SCENE    I.  5 

And  the  whole  eternity  of  things  are, 
For  why?    because  this  boy  I  bring  thee  is. 
And  so,  therefore,  old  man,  thou  mind  him  well ; 
Teach  him  in  his  youth  for  to  be  all  truth, 
When  he  grows  to  be  a  man,  to  be  square; 
Always   even   dealing   with   his    fellow. 
And  now  do  try,  good  man,  keep  his  heart  clean; 
Mind  uncloud  by  sin  of  his  poor  passions; 
And   so  that  when  love's  awakening  comes 
Fires  of  his  entrancement  will  delight  him ; 
His  purest,  his  divinest  soul  sublime 
Shall  widen,  as  the  dawn  makes  wide  the  morn; 
And   love's   fond   light   disintegrate   the   dark 
Of  the  night  of  his  pacific  nature. 
Hark!     I   hear   them.     I   charge  thee,   guard   him 
well. 

Cot.     I  shall,  never  fear,  guard  him  well  as  can. 

Gar.     Do   not   kill   the   laughing   spirit   in   him, 
But  grant  he  shall  be  brave  and  honest,  too. 

Cot.     Yea,  sir,  if  precept  and  example  can. 

Gar.     And  teach  him  to  parry  and  to  carry 
His  arms  forward ;  to  kill  ere  he  be  slain. 
Verily,   teach  him  skill   in  it,   good   man. 
Yea,  thy  start  is  humble  but  'tis  better.       [To  Boy. 
Poverty  routs  petulence,  makes  a  man, 
Just  as  do  tribulations  whet  the  ends 
Of  extrication. — There's  horse   in  my  rear! 
Quick !     Curl  you  in  your  chrysalis  and   sleep ! 
Get  you  into  your  cabin.     I  go.     So  ho! 

[Exit.     Exeunt  Cottager,  Boy. 

Enter  Pursuit   and  Exeunt. 


EDWARD   GARRETT. 


SCENE  II.     Nances;  Time,  night. 

Agnes.     He  is  the  outlaw  Garrett,  I  am  sure; 
With  a  woman's  instinct  I  suspect  him. 

Enter  GARRETT  on  the  threshold. 
That  name  of  Garrett  hated  far  and  near; 
The  curse  of  men,  the  scare  of  children; 
The  chieftest  villain,  the  bloodiest  rogue 
Ever  trod  in  the  empire  of  his  crimes. 
Gar.    But   they   can't   guess   the  base-    j 

ness  of  my  birth; 

And  by  villainy  of  which  I  am  bound        !     ,  .  , 
To  villainy,  to  anger  and  to  blood. 
Behold;     hear,    hear    how    the    dastards 
seek  me. 

[In  the  distance  hounds  are  heard. 

Enter  GARRETT. 
Oho! 

Agnes.     'Tis  he! 

Gar.  'Tis   I.     But   why   tremble? 

What  fear's  this  I  see  reflected  in  thee? 

Agnes.     The    tree    that    leaneth    o'er    the    mere 

reflects 

Itself,  a  shadow,  nothing;  —  ah,  but  thou, 
Ah,  hanging  o'er  me  thus  must  see  in  me 
Confusion. 

Gar.     Mine  eyes  do  not  deceive  me; 
Night  is  on  thy  soul,  and  I  see  the  ghost 
Of  something  stalking  there;    yea,   and  the  blush 
That  burns  upon  thy  cheek  is  not  pretty, 
But  this  something  I  speak  of  puts  it  there. 


ACT  I,  SCENE  II. 


Agnes.     The  same  may  be  pure  whose  stream 

seems  dirty; 

The  blood  may  be  true  whose  blush  seems  murky. 
Gar.     Nay,  thou  dost  dissemble;  some  disquiet 
Doth  enripple  the  waters  of  thy  calm. 

Agnes.     And  truth  answers  thee;    'tis  but  thy 

breathing 
Presence  that  insouls  its  lazy  current. 

Gar.     Nay,  nay;    thy  charms  but  speak  the  lie 

thy  lips 

Would  not  utter;    nay,  some  annoy  doth  make 
Disturbance  in  the  ocean  of  thy  heart. 

Agnes.     As  the  seas  upheave  so  doth  the  fer 
ment 
Of  this  meeting  make  agitation  there. 

Gar.     The  billows  of  dark  and  rolling  trouble 
In  great  uproar  do  pound  upon  thy  shore. 

Agnes.     And  do  the   fathoms  of  those  tossing 

tides 
Behold  but  the  tempest  of  my  welcome. 

Gar.    Can  it  be  that  she  suspects  who 

I  am? 

Can't   be   me   that    she   doth    fear?     Sir, 
sheer  off.  — 

[In  the  distance  hounds  are  heard.         \  Aside 

The  roads  are  choking;   the  hounds   are 

baying. 
I  know  the  prowling  scouts  are  near  my 

scent. 

Agnes.     Hast  tumbled  in  soft  sleep's  oblivion? 
Gar.     Ah,  my  dear?    Ah,  Yes,  musing  on  a  joke. 


8  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

'Twas  o'er  the  road.  —  Undone  in  that  killing. 

[Aside. 

Agnes.     Thou  dost  seem  uneasy. 
Gar.  Bless  you,   no,   dear. 

Agnes.     Thy   face  stern  and   fretted  belies  thy 

words. 

Gar.     Instead  of  cheer  did  the  alchemist  spill 
In  me  double  dose  severe;  formation 
From  waste  scraps  of  truculence  sorted  out 
My  face.     So,  dear,  the  danger  in  a  smile 
Is  that   I   rip  the  patcher's   lace.     And   so, 
I  come  an'  to  no  more  than  say,   I  go. 

Agnes.     Away  so  sudden?     Hearken  me  to  stay. 
Linger,   for  I  shall  be  thy  company. 

Gar.     But   I   must   go.  -     The   wolves   are   yet 
outwit.  [Aside. 

What's  this  on  this  paper  ?  [Picks  up  writing. 

Agnes.  Do  not  read  it. 

Gar.     'Tis  not  unfit,   or   I   for  it  unfit. 

[Reads. 

Thought  draws  to  thee,  sits  at  its  feast; 
And  leap  in  presence  breasting  the  aurora: 
The   sluggard   is   creation's   sin  —  thou   creation's 

king, 
Apparelled    in    the    poetry    of    nature's    garnered 

rhymes.  - 

Like  the  sun  my  love's  a  thief } 
And  men  like  timid  shadoivs  creep  to  their  retreat, 
At  the  dawn's  first  crimson  flush  of  thy  coming. 

The  star  of  even  emerges  from  the  clouds  of  night, 

So  wondrous  and  alone  in  the  gloaming; 

Lost  in  the  interminable  vastness  of  thy  heights, 


ACT  I,  SCENE  II.  9 

Secure  in  the  royal  fastness  of  thy  impregnable 

wold.  — 

Like  the  star  my  love's  a  thief, 
Ranging  in  his  might  the  world  of  night; 
Watching  in  the  untrodden  zvilds  of  thy  security. 

Who  is  this  something  sun,   this  something  star; 
Tell  me  again  who  is  this  something  imp? 

Agnes.     A  thing  of  fancy  which  the  mind  per 
ceived. 
A  dream,  a  poesy,  a  phantasy. 

Gar.     I  wonder  if  it  is  for  me  she  feels?- 
I  love  these  intensely ;  but  I  must  go.  [Aside. 

I  go.  —  The  dogs  on  guard ;  'tis  death  delay. 

[Aside. 

Agnes.     Haste  not  yet;    stay  a  while;  the  night 

is   fair, 

And   I'll   endeavor   entertain  thee,    friend. 
Stop,  and  we  will  ope  the  floods  of  harmony; 
Stay  a  while  and  together  we  will  sail 
Down  the  stream  of  song,  o'er  the  dancing  waves; 
By  banks  of  enchantment,  rapturous  shores; 
Through   those  scenes,   through   those   captivating 

lands, 

In  rare  music's  fair  country  of  the  soul. 
And  we  will  fill  a  heaveness  in  the  air; 
And  for  while  dost  sing  shall  I  play  for  thee; 
And  like  a  passion  sweeping  through  the  vale 
Shall  the  angels'   choirs  throng  unto  our  song. 
We'll   fright  the  canny   stillness  of  the  night, 
And  drive  the  ghost  of  silence  through  the  hills; 
With  resounding  melody  we  will  thrill 
The  heart  of  nature  in  its  listening  depths. 


10  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Gar.     O,  Agnes  Nance,  I  must,  I  must,  depart— 
If  speed's  to  win  I  should  be  gone  e're  now.  — 

[Aside. 

I  must  depart.  -      Hark,  hear  the  bitches  bark.  — 

[Aside.     Dogs  in  distance. 
I  should  be  gone  e'er  this ;  pardon  my  transgression. 

Agnes.     O,  sweet  transgression!  in  my  heart 
Most    pardonable.         Fy!      Love    levels     insolent 

laws. 

Six  may  swing  upon  the  gate  when  sixty 
Were  deranged.     Love  alone  may  break  these  laws 
Of  porcelain,  when  custom  common 
Makes  it  wanton. 

Gar.  I  beg  a  thing  of  you. 

Agnes.     That  it  were  less  you  begged  and  more 
You  asked,  for  grants  grieve  to  see  thee 
Begging  and  make  a  pleasure  weep. 

Gar.     A  kiss.     Good-night.     Good-night  to  thee, 
dear  heart.  [Kiss.    Exit  GARRETT. 

Agnes.     Good-night.       Why,    for   sure.       Good 
night.     Ah,  he's  gone. 

I  feel  so  altered.     Wherefore  this  weakness? 
My  head's  in  frenzy  and  my  bosom  swoons. 
Ah!     who  is  she  that  taketh  up  this  corpse? 
Who  is  this  insensate  trembling  creature? 
Where  I  stood  this  confused  reeling  wretch? 
Who  am  I  so  besot,  staggering  so? 
Is  this  palsied  frame  the  form  of  Agnes? 
Ah,  I  am  traversing  the  gloom,  my  world 
Is  in  eclipse,  and  shutters  in  the  change: 
And  confusion  is  abroad  in  my  life.  - 
Ah,  ho,  there  is  a  rift  in  the  darkness; 
Yea,  and  love  discovers  me  a  woman. 


ACT  I,  SCENE  III.  11 

I  trace  the  light.     Tis  dawn;    'tis  my  new  morn; 

I  am  beatified ;   I  am  appalled ; 

And  the  madd'ning  fires  of  my  affection 

Unquenchable  through  my  eternal  soul. 

I  love  thee,  Edward,  with  unending  love, 

My  passion  is  exalted  to  the  heavens; 

I  love  thee,  Garrett,  as  the  tigress  loves, 

Ravenous  for  any  who  would  touch  thee. 

Like  woman  of  abandon  do  I  love; 

And  though  disasters  trail  me  to  my  doom; 

Though  my  name  become  a  shame  to  utter; 

Despite  of  fates,  the  storms  of  time,  I  love.     [Exit. 


SCENE  III.     Room  in  Carroll's,   MARY   CAR 
ROLL  and  JOHN   ALMONT. 

John.     In    two    days    hence  —  weary    while    till 

then ;  - 

On  to-morrow's  morrow  eve  I'll  return. 
And  then  when  I  do  come  I'll  bring  a  ring 
And  place  't  upon  thy  finger  for  a  sign 
Thou  art  to  be  my  own  dear  girl  for  aye. 
Farewell,  my  love. 

Mary.     Farewell   thee,   John.     Farewell. 

\Ex\t  JOHN. 

Pledged  to  him  and  promised  to  his  brother. 
But  what's  a  promise?     Ah,  'tis  but  a  breath 
Sealed  but  in  a  mortal's  less  assurance; 
Our  wind  but  shaped  to  some  well-meant  intent. 
Things  of  fancy  bred  i'  the  summer's  sun, 
To  perish  i'  the  chilling  season's  change.  - 
Our  good   intentions   a   huntsman   novice, 
Foiled  i'  the  future,  trapped  in  his  own  traps, 


12  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Prey  to  the  wolves  of  contrary  fortune. 
A  promise  but  a  feather  in  fate's  weather; 
And  pledges  as  bubbles  the  child  doth  blow, 
Blissful  in  review  of  the  things  it  sees; 
In  contemplation  sweetly  glories  there; 
Fondly  bewitched,  in  ecstasies  most  charmed; 
Longing  for  the  beauty  is  painted  there; 
When  lo,  the  visionary  scheme  doth  bust. 
Charles,    I   fling  your   ring  into  the  burning. 

[Throws  ring  into  fire. 
I  do  hope  thou'lt  endeavor  to  forget. 

Enter  ROYAL  CARROLL. 
Roy.     The   hunt   collects.     Will   you   go? 
Mary.  Will  I  stay? 

Fancy  me.     I   will  lead  them  all  to-day. 

[Exit  ROYAL. 

This  hunting  is  the  passion  of  my  life. 
My  love's  the  whip,  the  horse,  the  dogs,  the  fox. 

[Exit. 


SCENE  IV.      Space  in  Almont   Gardens. 
CHARLES  ALMONT  reading  letters. 

Chas.     How  soft  disorders  steal  upon  the  throne 
Of  our  plans,  like  the  velvet  tread  of  night. 
To  capture  thee  I'll  risk  half  my  fortune; 
To  get  thee  in  my  clutch  once  again 
Shall  be  the  end  of  a  one  ambition. 
Let  me  read  o'er  again  what  'tis  he  says. 
"  /  am  in  possession;  I  am  master." 
Master?     He?     Ridiculous!     The   party 
And  the  power  what  rank  mad  opposites 


ACT  I,  SCENE  IV.  13 

In  all  particularities  that  pair.  — 

Ho!    an  other.     It  smells  of  love.     Within  too 

[Comes  to  another  letter. 
I  wager  in  that  love-lorn,  self-same  savor. 
Deferential,  sure!     Obedience  shines 
As  in  that  time  bends  she  her  mind  to  mine. 
Mine  eyes!     No,  no!     All  the  works  of  vengeance 
Could  not  change  her  so!     Sight's  inebriate, 
Light  inverteth.     Read  o'er  again  the   facts! 
"  Prithee  friend,  tell  him  not  that  I've  loved  thee; 
Just  keep  it  in  thy  sorroiv's  secret  heart. 
For  so,  your  life  and  mine  must  never  blend." 
Thy  soul  to  perdition;    thy  bones  to  hell! 
Thou  drab,  thou  bawd,  thou  witch  of  a  liar, 
Hast  thyself  delivered  to  an  other? 
Hast    for   my   brother   thou    forsaken   me? 
He,  that  shooter  of  poison  in  my  face; 
That  striking  reptile  of  malevolence; 
Born  to  hate,  the  wrath  of  my  existence; 
Detested   infant,  my  youth's  opponent; 
Whom  in  his  cradle  pommeled,  saucy  brat; 
Enmity's  intens'ty  freak  of  un'ty; 
Shall  he  win  the  fortune  of  my  plotting? 
I  will  shatter  this  new  god  you  adore; 
From  his  pedestal  tip  this  new  image; 
Yea,   for  this  form  of  my  brother  shall  fall! 
Yea,  this  night  I  will  slip  him  in  his  sleep; 
The  hushed  hour  to  muffle  him,  his  angel 
Doom's  to  ensnare  him  to  eternity : 
As  when  in  sleep  art  gone  I'll  bolt  the  door 
From  thy  return.     Ah,  John,  thou  ne'er  hast  dreamt 
One  half  as  deep  as  thou  shalt  dream  to-night 
In  those  dear  fathoms  of  unconsciousness. 
Carroll,  I  won  thee ;    thou  art  mine  in  right ; 


14  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

I'll  charge  again  the  fortress  of  thy  heart; 
Thou'lt  find  me  pleading  at  thy  feet  again. 

Ahem.  Enter  JOHN. 

John.     Deject,  distressed  thou  seem'st  and  sad. 

Chas.     Paddling   in   the   past;     wooing   brother 

when 
We  were  more  of  friends. 

John.  Humph.     Ah,  so,  you  were. 

Chas.      Ah,    and   I   thought   of   time   when   we 

were  boys 

Grown  in  love  together;    fore  came  those  winds 
Of  coldness  and  of  devastating  blight. 
Like  bugles  calling  o'er  the  barren  moor 
Sounds  of  our  ancient  laughter  come  to  me. 
Brothers,   the  air  was   rare  in  brotherhood; 
And  our  world  was  full  of  bloom  and  sunshine; 
Earth  elastic  to  our  tripping  spirits; 
Boyhood,   bounding  in   unbounded    freedom. 
Then  quicker  than  a  woman's  wit,  I  say 
Changed  the   smiling  scene  to  snarling  sullen. 
And  the  lowering  skies  and  sighing  winds, 
Bemoan  the  mournful  vista  of  these  years. 
I  walked  but  yesterday  where  we  have  roamed; 
And  through  those  scenes  where  we  did  join  our 

sports ; 

The  trees  were  bare,  a  chill  was  in  the  air; 
The  rustling  leaves  the  only  sound  'twas  heard 
In  that  dear  place  where  we  did  run  at  play. 
My   hand   out   offers   thee   its    fellowship; 
If  can't  be  brothers  let  us  least  be  friends; 
My  heart  doth  bleed  to  know  thee  once  again. 
I  step  forward  to  renew  -  [Advances  to  greet. 


ACT  I,  SCENE  IV.  15 

John.  Tell,  is  love 

Thus  impulsive?     There's  no  good  in  thine  eye. 
Smooth  extorter  what  of  me  is  it  envy'th? 
I  tell  thee  brother  fico  for  your  love.  [Exit. 

Chas.     Soon  that  stiff  tongue  in  a  stiffer  sticks; 
And  Satan  stirs  sensation  in  the  mix. 
This  very  night,  to-night  I  am  to  it, 
In  his  bed,  in  his  sleep  to  strangle  him; 
Till  his  eyes  shall  leave  their  sockets  empty. 
Stop,  stop;    I  ramble  like  a  child  unblessed; 
For  then  he  might  get  up  and  strangle  me. 
I'll  stab  him;    it  is  by  far  the  safer; 
And  I  will  stick  him  where  I  love  him  most. 
But,   suppose  he  shift  and  but  wounded  him; 
He  might  again  get  up  and  grapple  me; 
I  might  find  myself  bleeding  fast  to  death. 
Murder  outs.     'Tis  a  truth  begun  with  Cain. 
For  in  my  cups  I  might  give  way  the  tale; 
Or  suspicion  catch  me  all  unbuttoned.  - 

Enter  GARRETT,  a  gentleman. 

In  Azar  there  was  a  Garrett  bandit. 

Who  knows  this  lately  settled  may  be  he? 

[Aside. 
Gar.     Art  sick,  friend,  or  just  down  in  your  dear 

luck? 

Ah,  Charles,  methinks  thine  are  golden  troubles. 
Let  not  mania  for  gold  chain  thy  heart; 
Nor  greed  prison  thee  in  its  dungeon  walls. 
Mingle  more  with  men  thou'lt  be  more  sane. 
To-day  in  hell  the  rich  are  digging  deep; 
And  in  a  region  paved  with  diamonds 
Are  a  host  of  counting  damned. 


16  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Chas.  Garrett,  dear, 

Tis  a  more  tender  tumult  in  my  heart. 

Gar.     A  petticoat;  some  young  hustling  widow; 
Some  roundabout,  some  tricksy  little  dame. 
Or  laughing  lass  with  eyes  of  innocence, 
Sent  by  her  mother  just  to  corral  thee. 
Some  coy  old  rip  would  wed  thee  to  riot 
In  thy  riches.     Ho,  ho ;    ha,  ha ;    Almont ! 
Get  up,  get  up,  and  do  a  dance  with  me. 

Chas.  I  wish  with  thee  'twere  I  could  celebrate. 

Gar.  Why  canst  thou? 

Chas.  She's  gone  from  me  forever. 

Gar.  Won't  she  return? 

Chas.  Never. 

Gar.  And  is  she  dead? 

Chas.  She  lives,  but  lost  to  me  the  same  for  aye. 

Gar.     Say  not  so;    love   should   never  cease  to 

hope. 
Chas.     Hope  ?     Hope  an'  saidst  thou,  sir  ?     Aye, 

holds  a  stench 

Unto  the  nose,  aye,   and  tickles  the  nape 
With  emblem  flower ;   whiles  with  sulphur  stuffs 
The  stomach,  puts  sweet  fragrance  in  the  hair. 
I  am  mad  and  most  distract,  dear  Garrett. 
An  other  woos  her  with  eyes  and  nonsense. 
Gar.     Love  —  Jealous.      Which    simply    proves 

thou  dost  love. 

For  'tis  inborn  in  the  science  of  things 
That  if  thou  dost  love  thou  shalt  be,  jealous. 
'Tis  corollary  of  too  long  wooing. 

Chas.     Some  one  takes  my  place  in  her  affections. 


ACT  I,  SCENE  IV.  17 

Gar.     Love's  mind  is  morbid ;  thou  dost  fancy  it. 

Chas.     Nay,   fancy,  but  in   fact  is  this  rival. 

Gar.     Two  jealous  cats  round  an  offal  barrel. 

Chas.     Pity  me.     O,  help  me,  Garrett,  if  you  can. 

Gar.     'Tis  like  she's  endeavoring  lure  thee  on; 
Thou  too  slow  she  mentions  of  an  other; 
She  wants  thee  quick,  and  takes  these  means  to  it. 

Chas.     She  doth  recant  and  to  my  brother  goes. 
She  is  mine,  —  she  is  rich,  riches  unknown. 

Gar.     The  thief,   her  home,   and   not  her  heart 
he'd  own.  [Aside. 

Chas.     O,  Garrett,  but  thou  alone  canst  help  me. 

Gar.     This  wretched  sprawl  antic  to  deceive  me. 

[Aside. 

Chas.     My  heart  is  rent. 

Gar.  Why  then  and  not  mend  it? 

Chas.     Ah,  but  how? 

Gar.  Thou  rollest  love  up  a  hill. 

Like  a  hog,  made  your  golden  palate  god, 
And  grunting  under  much  thy  groans  are  more. 

Chas.     We  would  marry  when  my  brother  met 
her. 

Gar.     And  men  fling  sparrows  crumbs  to  hear 

them  sing; 

To  nuptials  thee  invite  to  see  thee  grin. 
I  must  go.  [Going. 

Chas.     Hold!     Stay.     Haste  not  yet  away. 
Pray  do  not  leave  me  in  my  great  extreme. 

Gar.     He  beat  thee.     Now,  let  thy  revenge  to  be 
Just  in  some  bus'ness  scheme  to  leave  him  in. 

Chas.     Tell  me,  dost  not  believe  I  love? 


18  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Gar.  As  fain 

Would  he  be  cunning  who  slobbers  over 
Craft  so  oft  is  too  much  diligence  thief 
Of  the  mask. 

Chas.     I  meet  thee  on  the  level. 

Gar.     'Tis   said    thou   art    gymnastic   hypocrite. 

Chas.     It's   an  overmastering  mystery 
Who  thou  art,  for  none  do  claim  to  know  thee. 

Gar.     My  folks  had  riches,  I  was  left  their  all. 
But  who  I  am,  what  matters  it  to  thee? 

Chas.     My  brother  tells,  —  O,  so  horrent  to  the 

ear  — 

Such  tales,  that  one  must  strike  his  breast  exclaim, 
Of  thee,   and  with  more  blood  than  eloquence, 
Less  love  than  either,  until  they,  I  say, 
Are  murderously  plain,  yea  and  murder 
Is  their  key,  —  thy  past  was  bandit  robber. 
Like  vulture  wouldst  pounce  upon  a  village, 
With  a  horde  of  devils  following  thee, 
Unfeeling  and   unpitying  monsters, 
And  murder  men  and  burn  and  sack  and  rape. 
Silence  him  or  he'll  hang  thee  with  his  tongue; 
Stifle  him  or  hang  upon  a  gibbet; 
With  an  instant's  jab  of  thy  rapier 
Thou  shalt  whittle  quickly  happy   fortune; 
My  gold  thy  gain  shall  wipe  away  the  stain. 
He  calls  thee  friend,  but  he's  thy  fellest   foe; 
I  say,  put  a  dagger  in  thy  danger, 
For  in  his  malice  he  is  worse  than  wrath; 
In  his  perverted  nature  he  is  deep; 
He  smiles,  he's  fair,  he's  tricky  and  he's  sweet, 
He  proclaims  thee  outlaw  and  that  is  death. 
She's  rich.     And  I  love  her  mostly  for  it. 


ACT  I,  SCENE  IV.  19 

But  if  my  brother'll  kill  due  part  I'll  give,  - 

Gar.     Is    Garrett    sought    dark    haunt    plots    to 
enter ; 

For  the  approach  of  muffled   felony; 

Haven  for  minions  of  depravity; 

That  dark  array,  that  soulless  host  of  blood; 

Grim  murder's  strangling,  sanguinary  band? 

The  tacit  access,  the  dissembled  door, 

For  revolting  villainy's  frightful  fiends 

To  gain  the  prostitution  of  my  soul? 

The  hidden  passage  and  the  hushed  hope, 

The  way,  the  silent  gate  to  crime's  descent? 

Thy  strange  offence  is  thumping  in  my  brain; 

My  rage  rising  in  my  froke  doth  throake  me! 

This  my  blade,  my  blade  doth  crave  to  carve  thee  ! 

My  ringers  cry  aloud  to  throttle  thee! 

Chas.     Mistake!     The  fiend!     He'll  kill  me! 

[Aside. 
Gar.  Dastard !    Louse ! 

[Exit  CHAS.,  hurriedly. 

Garrett  move  again.     Roam  wher'ere  thou  wilt 

The  devil  of  my  past  seems  informer. 

His  and  not  his  brother's  the  idle  tongue 

So  plays  suitor  to  my  evil  record. 

The  fam'ly.     The  father  and  his  fav'rite 

'Gainst  the  mother  and  her  son.     And  such  hate; 

And  so  sad,  so  ungracious,  so  unkind. 

Edward  Garrett,  wherever  got  thy  name, 

Hadst  thou  but  a  mother  —  'Tis  my  hobby ; 

Well  —  well  —  And    grace    is    guest    where    least 

received. 
Agnes,  thee  in  vision  kept  me  in  peace; 


20  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

One  thought  of  thee  kept  me  from  killing  him; 

In  temptation  thou'rt  lily  in  my  path, 

Or  in  rage  appear'st  forget  my  fury, 

As  it  were  gently  tugging  at  my  arm. 

What  conquering  witchery's  in  woman! 

Softly  breathing  in  the  will  of  men; 

Strengthless   as   babes,    ah,   but   what   strength   is 

theirs ; 

Dependent  quite,  but  ah,  what  might  is  there; 
Compelling   fate   and   ruling  destiny. 
Aye,  wise  was  the  wisdom  and  not  stint 
Of  matter  said  thy  sacred  seed  was  small.       [Going. 
Good-night,  darling.     Keep  me  in  thy  prayers. 
It  may  be  so,  but  thee  I  never  wed; 
Lest  learn,  or  guess,  hold  hidden  intercourse, 
As  quiz  my  maund'ring  dreams  as  how  I  was  born. 

[Exit. 
Re-enter  CHARLES. 

Chas.     On   the   hill   miserable   in   his   hut 
The  hermit  kill;    John's  crime  prove  it  Conrad, 
For  the  which  he  will  banish  him  away. 
Then  to  Mary  Carroll  shall  I  prove  it; 
And  our  love  and  reconcilement  suckling 
As  on  the  dug  of  that  other's  baseness. 

Re-enter  GARRETT,  unnoticed. 

Till  nine  I'll  prepare  for  the  hermit.  [Exit. 

Gar.     There's  mischief  in  his  mind,  in  his  mis 
sion; 
To-night,  myself,  walk  round  see  the  hermit. 

[Exit. 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  21 


SCENE  V.    Room  in  Almont's.  CONRAD  seated. 

Con.     Ow !  that  leg.     Ah,  what  pain  do  I  endure. 
Ugh !    Each  move  uproots  a  groan.    Each  muscle  - 
Oh!     Ah!     Why   was   I  born  to   suffer   so! 
The  brain  to  drugs  enchained,  surround  with  care, 
Charged  with  cure,  rammed  with  physic,  dosed  to 

death, 

Plugged  with  sympathy,   and  still  rheumatics 
Mock  the  doctors  rapidly  plucking  me. 
My  day  rolls  on;    my  day  rolls  on.     Like  the 
Hydrangea  in  the  winter  I  soon 
Shall  leave  my  slender  stem  and  blow  and  roll 
Away. 

Enter  CHARLES. 

Chas.     Good  morrow  to  thee,  father,  dear. 

Con.     Good  morrow  to  thee,  son ;   good  morrow, 
son. 

Chas    Feel  - 

Con.  Dressed   for  death,   summed   up   for 

destruction.  — 

Some  evil  ails.     What  is't,  my  son,  that  ails? 
Thy   face,  thy   face  is  picture  of  despair. 
Hast  lost  our  wealth?     hast  of  our  fortune  lost? 

Chas.     Father,  I  falter. 

Con.  Son,  son,  answer  me. 

Chas.     Not  fortune  lost,  but  in  the  coils  disgrace. 
'Tis  bad  for  me  and  sad   for  me,  but  worse 
For  thee. 

Con.     Praised ! 

Chas.       What  saidst  thou? 


EDWARD   GARRETT. 

C°n-  I  am  amazed. 

Chas.     Our  name  in   death,   dishonor  and  dis 
grace. 

Con.     Disgrace,  thou  saidst? 

Chas.  And  knits  the  very  face 

Of  heaven  in  abhorrence;    makes  seas  of  hell 
To  seethe  in  their  unrest.  —  I  must  not  speak. 

Con.     Is  the  splendor  and  honor  of  our  name  —  ? 

Chas.     It  is,  I  said.  —  Yes,  but  I  must  not  tell. 

Con.     I  bid  thee,  speak! 
_^  Chas.  I  do  fear  thy  weakness. 

Can  courage  cut  the  cancer  from  our  side  —  ? 
Mefears  thou  art  sickly  and  not  staunch  to't 

Con.     Once  a  boy  it  was  I  did  fight  a  bear. 
When  right  stands  to  be  wrought,  what  though  the 

deed 
Defies,  still  thy  father  does  defying. 

Chas.     For  and   thou   hast   command   me   I   do 

speak. 

I  would  my  tongue  could  hire  my  will;    ah,  so, 
My  mouth  could  fly;    or  death  had  sealed  my  lips, 
And  stilled  each  sense  that  here  can  signify. 
I  pray,  sir,  must  I  breathe  in  banishment  ? 
Must  I  lop  the  silent  felon  and  stamp 
Him  in  his  crime?     For  he  is  my  brother; 
O,  then,  distress  me  not  with  his  deserts. 
^  Con.     Son,    face   thy   father,   see  into  his  eyes, 
Speak  to  my  hearing;    let  thy  lips  work  loose, 
And  from  'round  thy  heart  come  its  concealings. 
Speak  as  by  thy  brother's  bier,  and  thou  wert 
Compelled  to  speak;    yea,  do  speak  as  thou  wert 
Judge  before  his  soul  and  could  not  utter 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  23 

Falsely:    of  all  thou  know'st  of  any  act, 
Design,  intent,  intrigue  or  crime  by  him, 
'Gainst  God;   the  laws  of  decency  and  man; 
Or  serious  and  substantiated 
'Gainst  the  state.     For  son,  I  command  thee,  speak. 

Chas.     Ah,  but  thou  must  know  that  he's  my 

brother ; 

My  love,  howe'er  he  is  unkind  to  thee. 
He's  mother's  dotage  and  he  dotes  on  her; 
For  if  she  knew  of  it,  if  she  were  here, 
She's  fight  for  him  till  but  her  teeth  were  left. 
Again  must  not  he  be  put  in  durance ; 
She'd  camp  just  by  his  prison  to  be  near; 
And  thus  her  simple  feelings  feed  of  fire. 
And  so,  I  invoke  thy  heights  of  leniency, 
And,  dear,  thy  clemency  with  eagle's  wing 
To  hie  along  his  life's  most  wretched   length, 
The  terrible  length  of  his  base  career. 
Be  commiserate,  be  gentle  with  him ; 
Do  not  imprison  or  behead  him  here. 
Banish   him.     Put  on   thy   sterner   habit. 
Hear  me  now,  I  shall  not  be  accuser. 

Con.     Wherefore  shalt  not? 

Chas.  Yea,  I  fear  my  weakness. 

Con.     I  say  to  the  marrow  of  the  matter! 

Chas.     Softly  hear  me;  John  thy  son  hath  mur 
dered. 

Con.     Consuming  violence !  word  of  ag'ny ! 
This  falling  form  lost  in  bleak  dishonor; 
And  tottering  time  in  the  storm  of  scorn; 
My  feeble  years  foundering  in  disgrace ; 
And  snows  o'  mis'ry  piling  my  old  age! 
He  e'er  defied,  despised,  scorned,  in  his  youth 


24  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Annuled  my  counsels,  now  at  man  he's  wrecked ; 

Ashore  on  the  shoals  of  retribution; 

Sinking  in  the  slough  of  untimely  end. 

Manhood  has  seldom  power  to  rescue 

Youth  in  mistuition  schooled.  -      Murdered  who? 

Chas.     The  hermit  killed  for  his  famous  jewels. 

Con.     May  not  fatality  be  building,  son, 
Of  thy  fallibility?     Suspicion 
Builds  for  us  — 

Chas.  Down  his  hoary  channeled  chest, 

Wandering  strange  on  its  unwonted  ground, 
Trickled  the  disappointed  stream  of  life. 
For  I  did  pull  it  out  from  where  'twas  plunged, 
This  hunting-knife,  thy  gift  upon  a  time. 
All  whet  and  pointed  for  his  keen  intent ; 

[Displays  a  knife. 

But  these  mute  marks  are  not  the  blood  of  doe. 
Home  I  shadowed  him;    after  to  his  room; 
And  through  the  door  I  saw,  O,  father,  saw, 
In  my  brother's  place  did  a  demon  pace; 
Upon  his  face  is  hung  a  ghastly  pallor, 
More  devilish  in  his  dishevelled  hair. 
In  bloody  hands  he  holds  the  miser's  wealth; 
He  trembles  as  if  haunted  by  some  fear; 
He  smiles,  laughs,  chuckles  at  the  plunder; 
With  inhuman  eye  gloating  o'er  his  spoils. 
He  starts,  he  staggers,  takes  a  step  and  halts; 
Quick  upon  his  person  he  secretes  them, 
And  plunges  for  the  door,  but  I  am  gone. 

Con.     Haste  and  hither  bring  him  in  my  pres 
ence. 

Chas.     Keep  thou  close  from  notice  till  he  denies. 

[Gives  CON.  knife. 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  25 

I'll  not  call.     It  would  seem  like  exulting 

In  his  fall.     I'll  be  by  when  you  arraign. 

Curb  acerbity  and  do  not  weaken; 

Keep  in  mind  one  thing;   thou  shalt  banish  him. 

[Exit. 
Enter  MARION. 

Con      Go,  find  thou  John;    summon  him  before 
me.  [Exit  MARION. 

Yea,  some  crimes  in  their  tearful  penitence 
Seem  dropping  pearls  in  propitiation; 
Some  of  the  most  heinous  of  offences, 
Condoned  in  aggravating  circumstance. 
But  this  most  woeful  act  cries  for  vengeance ;  - 

Enter,  JOHN. 

How  fine  thou  stand'sts  in  all  thine  innocence! 
Siree,  I  am  about  to  charge  thee  with  a  crime. 

John.     The  monarch  abdicates  and  dome  of  man 
Crashes  in  a  chaos.     How  sad  it  is 
When  this  intellect,  man's  splendid   reason 
Topples  in  the  river  of  such  ravings. 

Re-enter  MARION. 

Con.     Where   wert   thou    i'    the   middle   o'    last 

night  ? 

John.     Thy  base  curiosity  I'll  not  serve. 
Con.     How   thick   is  the   tongue   in   mouths   of 

culprits. 
John.     Hate  loves  to  toy  with  this  thing  in  his 

throat, 

Soon  ascending  wreath  of  suspicion's  smoke. 
Con.     I  will  show  thee  loon  more  voluble  soon. 
Mar.     My  father,  dear,  prithee,  let  lenity 


26  EDWARD   GARRET T. 

Deploy  more  gracious  ardor;    spite  eat  not 
A  parent's  proper  premise. 

Con.  Thou  wert  where? 

John.     Where    wert    thou    when    Solomon    was 
around  ? 

Con.     Not  here. 

John.  Nor  neither  either  else  was  I. 

Well,  well,  old  cove,  give  up;  what's  your  secret? 

Con.     Some  one  slew  the  hermit;    robbed  him 

dead. 

Ah,  see  now  how  unsteady  he  doth  stand, 
And  trembleth  in  the  presence  of  his  guilt. 
He's  dead.     That  thou  didst  kill  him  dost  deny? 

Mar.     And    should    my    brother    so    befoul    his 

breath  ?  — 
Ah,  fastidious  tooth,  thou  eat'sts  my  heart! 

[Aside. 

Con.     Son,  list  thou  unto  the  lips  of  edict. 
Stern  perforce,  within  me  I  am  weeping. 
Go  nor  enter  thou  my  life  evermore; 
Betake  thee  quickly;    hence,    be   on   thy   way. 
The  matter  still  will  be  our  secret  grief, 
None  shall  know  the  meaning  of  thy  going. 
Get  thee  to  some  other  far  off  country; 
Quite  far  beyond  our  minds  and  memory. 
Let  it  be  as  if  the  grave  did  keep  thee, 
In  its  lone  and  close  and  silent  bondage. 
With  my  curse  to  rest  thee  thou  now  must,  start. 

Mar.     Thy  accusation  is  most  thin,  senile, 
Base  and   bias.     'Tis  thy  mind's   illusion. 
Where  to  thy  words  of  prating  hast  fetched  proof? 

Con.     They  are  on  him  or  shall  grind  my  knees 
till 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  27 

Pardon's  dust. 

Mar.     Each  word  in  such  certainty.  —      [Aside. 
Then  some  traitorous  monster  milks  the  truth 
And  poisons  with  immensity. 

Re-enter  CHARLES. 
Chas.  Trouble  ? 

Mar.    Mother,   dear,   how   much   thou    ^ 
art  needed  here!  I 

How     can     I     contend     between     their    [  Aside 

hatreds  ?  —  J 

In  a  blackest  cloud  he  would  confound, 
Drive  hence  forever  our  love  and  brother. 

[To  CHAS. 
Con.     I  am  thy  father. 

John.  I,  thy  hated  son; 

'Tis  this  o'ersick  passion  vomits  judgment. 

Con.     But  the  jewels  are  about  thee  somewhere. 
Mar.     I'll    pry    each    pucker,    I    will    pick   each 
Plait  -  [Attempts  to  search. 

Con.     Tis  not  his  play  comply. 
John.  Go  on,  thou  dear. 

Mar.     Not  there  —  nor  there  —  nor  there  — 
Con-  What  if  thou  hast  erred? 

[Aside  to  CHAS. 
[MARION  finds,  fumbles,  and  jewels  fall. 

Con.     Huzza!      huzza!      the    brazen    one    doth 

shrink. 
And  that  there  was  implement  of  this  imp. 

[Throivs  knife  on  floor. 
John.     The  bound  and  bitten  victim  of  cabal.  — 


28  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Else  I  did  do  it  in  my  drunkenness. 
The  curse  of  it !    I  can  not  remember.  -         [Aside. 
Ah,  say,  what  time  did  I  come  home  last  night? 
Chas.     Foref end,  I  was  in  bed ;    I  do  not  know. 
John.     Marion,  what  time  was  it  I  came  home? 
Mar.     Too  late,  too  drunk  to  offend  friend  or 

foe. 

John.     The  plot  it  thickens,  and  it  sickens  me.  - 

[Aside. 

I  must  be  gone;    it  were  best  I  should  go. 
Good-bye,  good-bye  to  thee,  thou  old  legend; 

[To  CON. 
Good-bye,  thee,  thou  hairy  caterpillar; 

[To  CHAS. 
A  kiss,  sweet  sister,  keep  it  in  thy  heart; 

[To  MAR. 

A  kiss,  girl,  and  give  it  to  my  mother.  [Going. 

Mar.     No,   no,   no!     Life   of   my   love,    stay,    I 

pray! 

The  gray  and  ugsome  bugs  and  worms  that   fat 
Neath  damp  decaying  log,  or  the  lizard 

[Prostrates  before  father. 

Neath  the  rock,  or  the  snake  within  the  swamp: 

Disturb  the  log,  or  trespass  on  their  haunt 

And  see  them  run. 

But  man  of  blessed  strength,  valorous  might, 

Oh  —  ah  —  eh  —  shall  he  scurry  fore  the  worm  ? 

Or  shall  he  crawl  and  prejudice  be  grand? 

Thy  manhood   run  away? 

I  am  kneeling,   father,   at  thy   favor, 

My  prayer  to  place  in  his  salvation. 

O  do  thou   see't.     Ope  love  or  ope  dungeon. 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  29 

For  without  him  life  is  but  a  prison, 
Thou'lt  kill  the  mirth  and  music  of  my  youth, 
Yea  and  make  the  poetry  of  girlhood 
A  tragedy  of  years.     O,  pardon  him. 
I  am  kneeling,  father,  pleading  to  thee. 
Behold  her  in  tresses  of  your  praises, 
And  eye  of  tone  so  like  unto  your  own, 
Love,   speak  out  my   father  his   forgiveness, 
Tis  I  contend  at  thy  gates  for  mercy, 
Yea,  in  Heaven'  s  dear  name  be  not  perverse : 
My   tend'rest    feelings  burn  before  thy   soul; 
The  unrestrained  wildness,  yea  the  flood 
Of  my  existence  surges  to  thy  heart. 
Zephers  comb  the  lion's  mane,  and  parteth 
F  the  eagle's  breast,  and  the  grasses  sway, 
The  oak  bends  to  will  of  wind,  all  nature 
Weak  and  mighty  doth  bow  before  benign: 
Canst -not  the  gentle  breath  of  Marion's  agony? 
Move  thee,  or  passive  make  thee  to  my  heart? 
Art   thou   impervious,   immovable,   unbendable, 
To  the  aching  winds  of  my  anguish  soul? 
Granite  to  endure  mantling  moss  and  change, 
Mortal  wilt  not  mantle  in  love's  desperation? 
Mountains  massive  and  abrupt,  earth's  fair  piles 
Teeming  angles  sightly,   grotesque   in  liberty, 
Ah,  and  canst  not  thou  be  grotesque  in  love? 
Call  it  odd  break  all  laws  to  thine  own  son? 
Against  all  sense  let  thine  own  son  go  free? 
'Tis  my  soft,  girlish  passion  pleads  with  thee. 
That  dear's  he  to  me  if  he  goes  I  die. 

Chas.     Advance,  ad  —  be  steadfast. 

[Aside  to  CON. 
Con.  It  is  too  late. 


30  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

John.     Ah,  my  stay  but  seres  thy  sadness,  sister. 

Mar.     My   intellect   yet   striveth    for   the   light, 

[To  CON. 

Yet  I  perceive  them  art  vixen  villain; 
Child,  but  in  this  alarm  I  am  woman; 
Curse  thee,  yea,  I  demand  that  he  go  free! 

John.     Eh,  my  stay  but  galls  thy  sadness,  sister. 
I'll  return,  in  a  week,  or  little  while; 
When  this  matter  is  clearer  in  my  mind. 
Marion  dear,  I'll  keep  thee  in  my  thoughts; 
Purest  angel,  keep  me  in  thy  prayers.  [Exit. 

Enter  GARRETT. 

Gar.     My   love,    what   means   this    face   in   this 
sour  mash? 

Mar.     See   upon   the  floor  — 

Gar.  Come,  tell  me  aside. 

[Aside.     Converse  apart. 

Con.     He  denied. 

Chas.  A  pleading,  denying  world. 

Con.     He  did  deny. 

Chas.  And  stuck  to  it,  which  was  well. 

The  world's  a  woman,  an  angelic  liar. 
The  towns- folk  are  in  arms.  [A  noise  without. 

Con.  Seek  they  him? 

Chas.  Seems. 

Mar.     Edward,  hear  who  comes. 

Gar.  I  will  bolt  the  door. 

Con.     Admit  them  in. 

Gar.  Stay. 

Chas.  Sir,  this  is  my  house. 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  31 

Gar.     Ah,  no  doubt,  but  once  it  was  thy  father's. 
Thou  in  stormy  locks,  and  busy  tragus, 

[To  CON. 

Massy  brows  and  rheumy  brills,  O,  how  thou 
Shouldst  plunge  in  prayer  and  supplication 
For  this  most  damnable,  outrageous  charge, 
Against  the  life  of  an  innocent  man. 

Burst  in  several  of  the  Towns-people. 
Be  still,  gentlemen. 

ist  T.  John  Almont  - 

Gar.  Be  still. 

Marion,  dear,  I  will  confess  to  it.  - 

[Aside  to  MARION. 

This  din  thy  sin.     I  heard  thee  say  thou'd  go; 
On  call  mine  own  find  dead,  thy  cloak  and  glove.  - 

[Aside  to  CHAS. 
As  time  dipped  it  in  the  dawning,  —  Up  lies.  - 

[Aside. 

And  life  'gan  to  scroll  the  day,  —  What'll  I  say?- 

[  Aside. 

It  was  yesterday.     Does  any  doubt  it? 
And  mine  eyes  fly  ope  to  dreams  of  revenge. 
A  petty  grievance.     Ah,  hath  marked  the  time?- 
Why  do  I  get  myself  in  this  muddle?  —         [Aside. 
I've  said  petty  grievance,  but  prodigious 
Is  the  growth  of  working  germ,  soil  and  time. 
Ah  so,  black  soil  ye  say  for  virgin  growth; 
Black  souls  I  say  —  Ah,  I'll  let  ye  guess  it.  - 
For  whom  do  I  get  me  in  this  muddle  ?  -      [Aside. 
All  day  despite  my  will  it  tarried   there, 
Despite  commands  and  man,  —  Is  it  for  her  ?  - 

[Aside. 


32  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Yea,  until  grievance  grew  my  conqueror, 

Like  a  tragedy  ramped  and  tore  my  hair, 

My    teeth    were    clashing    swords.  -  -  What's    she 

to  me? 

If  I  confess  my  life  I  give  for  his.  —  [Aside. 

Tis  night  and  I  am  journeying  on. 
It's  late,  it  is  midnight,  hush  and  awful; 
Lo,  for  a  thought  speaks  blackly  to  my  heart. 
I  tie  my  horse  and  clamber  up  the  hill; 
The  moon's  eclipse  is  aegis  to  my  stealth, 
As  toiling  up  the  fastness  of  the  mount, 
Buckled  'bout  me  darkness,  and  stumbling  oft 
In  the  blackness,  through  ravine,  until  at  last 
I  obtain  the  clearing.     The  miser's  hut 
Is  just  before  me.     So  quiet,  so  still. 
What  magnificence!     O,  what  rarity! 
The  moon  emerging  and  the  world  asleep. 
Such  wild  intoxicating  grandeur! 
God  in  beauty  hath  pictured  up  the  night. 
Charmed  i'  the  tranquility ;   the  winds  blow 
Cooling  to  my  temples ;    the  night's  delights 
Bring  rapture  to  my  soul;    peace  reign  in  me; 
And  my  purpose  doth  collapse;  but  —  the  fiend 
Again  assails ;   my  blood  from  origin 
To  flood  rocks  in  fury's  might;    and  from  end 
To  utter  end  a  storm  of  madness  sweeps 
Upon  me.     I  leap  into  the  cabin; 
Recoiling  self,  calling  self  a  coward; 
I  hiss  it  in  his  ear,  I  draw  my  dagger,  - 

[Several  of  the  Towns-people  rush  to  seize. 
Hold,  let  no  tawny  villain  come  too  close! 
Remember  I've  not  yet  confessed  to  it. — 
If    John    escapes,     he's     free.     Marion 

grieves. 


ACT  I,  SCENE   V.  33 

Whilst  an'  if  I  confess  I  lose  my  head. 
If   I   say   'twas    Charles   did    it,    Charles 

hangs  me; 

Garrett,  the  outlaw,  dangles  from  a  tree. 
Then    what    becomes    of    Agnes?     She 

loses.  —  Aside, 

Which  way  did  John  go?  [Aside  to  MAR. 

Mar.  Went  north  by  the  roadr 

[Aside  to  GAR. 

Gar.     Girl,  I'll  not  confess  to  it.       [To  MAR.] 

Men,   'tis   crime 
None  o'   mine. 

ist.  T.     Why  these  lies  and  this  delay? 
If  not  guilty,  John  Almont  we  suspect. 

Gar.     He's  gone.     Gone  south  by  the  road.     I 

saw  him. 

ist  T.     Fellows,    all    pursue    him !     All    haste, 
pursuit!  {Exeunt  Ts. 

Gar.     I  go,  too,  Marion,  perhaps  for  good. 

[Exit. 
Chas.     To  the  top  o'  the  house - 

Con.  I'll  not  a  jot. 

Chas.     Wilt  breakfast? 

Con.  Appetite?     Nay,  I  have  none. 

Pick   up   those   stones.     We'll   see   what   they   are 

worth.  [CHAS.  picks  up  jewels. 

Chas.     Come   thou   out    into    the   light.     There 

we'll  tell. 
Con.     Thy  arm. 
Chas.         Garrett,  thou  art  a  deep-sea  eel. 

[Aside. 


34  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Con.     Ah,  thou  hast  made  me  put  away  my  wife ; 
Anw  now  again  I've  driven  afar  my  son; 
And  withal  to  hear  my  daughter  curse  me. 

[Exeunt  CON.  and  CHAS.     Exit  MARION. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I.     A  Room  in  Carroll's. 
Enter  MARY  CARROLL. 

Mary.     Plighted,    but    the    days    they    seem    as 

blighted ; 

Betrothed,  but  naught  is  bliss  but  worriment ; 
A  dumpishness  instead  of  gaiety. 
What  sadness  stealeth  in  my  sleep  of  late! 
Again  last  night,  what  dreams  were  they  I  dreamt ; 
Even  now  tingling  in  the  fear  of  them; 
And  rippleless  rest  a  storm  emotion; 
The  dreams  of  love's  time  drunk  in  destruction; 
And  sorrow's  stream  harbor  in  my  pillow: 
And  foreboding,  I  am  sure,  something  ill. 
Charles,  I  fear  my  promise  broken  to  thee ; 
Rejected  lover,  how  thoult  act  in  it, 
As  when  'tis  thou  dost  find  thyself  outside. 
Thou  belong'st  not  in  my  thoughts.     Thou  are  past 
And  belong  in  grave  of  the  forgotten.  - 
To-day's  the  day  art  promised  to  return, 
My  John  of  knightly  look;    my  lord,  my  —  Hish! 

[Aside. 
Enter  CHARLES,  feigning  not  to  see. 

Chas.     Ah,  how  ruthlessly  she  tampered  with  this 
Most  sacred  ingenuity  of  heaven ; 


ACT  II,  SCENE  1.  35 

Ah,  and  how  malevolently  trod  she 
The  infinitesimals  of  divine 
Structure ;    made  low  art  of  love's  creation ; 
Broke  end  and  centre  of  sweet  existence; 
Powdered  with  the  dust  the  hopes  of  a  man ; 
Seared  with  her  damnation  thoughts  of  a  soul; 
Blew  her  sweet  curses  in  a  broken  heart ; 
And  made  of  me  the  demon  of  despair; 
Turned  my  voice  into  hopeless  wail  of  hell ; 
Changed  my  coursing  blood  into  chillest  steel ; 
Made  of  my  mind  a  million  scorpions; 
Stung  me  to  this  hissing,  purblind  madness. 
Wand'rer  in  fury  of  my  wanderings; 
Madness !    madness !    what  madness  is  in  mine ! 
That  I  did  die  in  my  crib's  innocence 
Before  burst  life's  bands  of  understanding; 
Or  sense  was  saddled  neath  her  excellence 
And  urged  to  this  dire  anguish.  —  She  is  gone, 
To  my  brother,  most  offensive  monster, 
Foulest  villain  — 

Mary.     Silence ! 

Chas.  My  joy!    my  joy! 

Ah,  yes,  its  path  of  death.     My  heart!    my  heart! 
Ah,  yes,  its  grave;   my  soul,  its  solitude. 
My  love  in  labyrinth,  bruised  and  broken 
In  bewilderment,  too  great  to  retreat, 
Flounders  forward  to  greet,  to  clasp  thee,  - 

[Advances  to  embrace. 

Mary.  Nay ! 

Nay,  now,  my  friend,  I  am  of  an  other; 
Promise  soon  possession  of  your  brother. 
'Twas  sin  I  accepted  thee  as  lover. 
In  predicament  now  but  one  way  out; 


36  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

And  it  must  be  transit  through  thy  sorrow. 
But  thou  art  a  man  and  a  manly  heart, 
Thus  and  fortified  for  your  misfortune. 
And  you  may  accuse  nor  can  I  excuse 
The  brazen  fact  never  loved  thee,  took  thee 
Life's  to  be  last  master,  for  aye  to  be 
The  eternal  keeper  of  my  being. 
'Twas   for  thee  too  ardency  of  fancy, 
'Twas  too  rash,   too  hasty,  headlong  wooing; 
And  this  is  thy  unhappiness.     My  fault 
In  thought;   and  though  I  grieve  it  yet  am  glad. 
For  now  I  do  stand  where  conscience  bids  me; 
And  then  I  stood  where  convenience  stood  me. 
Or,  my  dear  friend,  or  may  you  have  it  be 
My  love  with  him  is  selfish,  life  with  thee 
Beyond  my  charity. 

Chas.  Be  not  so  stubborn. 

My  dear,  thy  faith  more  worthy  common  thief 
Than  this  most  base,  conscienceless,  poor  caitiff. 

Mary.     As  swung  on  malice,  thy  tongue  it  creaks 
Unjust.     I  say,  presume  not  on  my  ears. 
It  is  ten  of  any  sin  to  scandal 
Blood  and  brother. 

Chas.     Thou  play'sts  upon  the  harp 
Of  nature;    yes  and  fill'sts  the  giddy  cups 
Of  music  for  the  drinking  of  my  soul. 
Brother:    word  once  was  filled  with  mirth; 
That  word  to-day  so  filled  with  murder. 

Mary.     I    say,    get   gone!     Mute   of    mouth    or 

turn't  out! 
Stay  yet!    I  kneel  for  my  asperity.  [Kneeling. 

Chas.     But  heed  my  words  thou  wilt  beware  of 
him. 


ACT  II,  SCENE  I.  37 

Since  caution  is  the  cause  of  sanctity. 

For  approval  of  his  lust  all  he  needs 

Souls  engage  to  his  winning  lechery; 

For  woman  fair  his  snares  are  constant  set; 

His  slaves  to  fallacy  and  venery. 

Beware,  beware;    beware  and  heed  my  words; 

For  our  dear  fancies  are  as  rash  as  fools; 

Lash  on  admonition ;   palm  to  peril ; 

One  most  unhappy  skein  of  contraries. 

I  know,  woman,  this  heart  you  have  in  hand 

Is  much  possessed;    and  is  now  quite  bestowed 

To  twice  a  score ;  - 

Mary.  In  foul  gullet  of  your 

Obloquious  mouth  must  I  look  warrant  ? 
Thou  gull,  thou  thing  of  Satan,  get  thee  gone, 
For  cert  he  appears  to  me  in  less  guile, 
More  a  rock  of  truth,  less  a  talking  wight, 
And  more  a  man. 

Chas.  Proteus-like  his  habit: 

More  casts  than  has  the  sky;    more  ways  than  fill 
Scale  of  wise  and  wicked  from  here  to  hell. 
He's  designing;    cute  as  he  is  cunning; 
Each  twitch  is  with  him  taut  some  intention. 
Glig  in  the  tavern,  he's  dog  dure  at  home; 
He  is  vain;    to  deception  he  is  vain; 
With  shine  of  manner,  elegance  of  grace, 
He's  captivating,  charming  when  he  likes. 
Ah,  how  many  his  ways,  manners  wooing: 
Shy  and  sheepish  awkward  goodness  winning; 
Or  a  very  devil  at  repartee. 
With  wit  or  with  solemnity  equal  in't; 
Or  mildness  or  in  passion  pretty  in't. 
Ah,  could  speak  the  cemeteries  dotted 


38  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

In  those  souls  of  his  perfidiousness ; 

But  would  walk  upon  a  night  for  thy  sight 

The  teary  ghosts  of  his  graveyard  host 

As  yet  the  grass  still  thin  o'er  their  young  graves ; 

Those  most  wronged  ones  deserted  in  their  shame, 

Or  sought  their  own  destruction  in  disgrace. 

Mary.     I  have  light  to  study  him.     All  wavers 
Is  not  lost.     Repulse  we  read's  oft  but  van 
Of  victory.     Faith  may  lapse  to  retrench. 
And  now  we'll  deliver  him  from  our  minds. 

Chas.     Last   night   he  murders  —  dear,    ah   yes, 

murders ; 

And  old  age  in  its  bed  succumbs  to  him. 
Father  wept  as  when  he  accused;  then  proof 
Dropped  in  searching,  the  weapon  and  the  prize 
And  sister  plead  for  guilt. 

Mary.  Thou  dog,  thou  brute, 

Thou  serpent,  thou  tedder'd  engine  Satan's! 
May  such  imps  of  agony  crowd  thy  bones, 
As  that  thy  groans  be  wind  to  warn  the  world ; 
May  thy  carcass  rent  in  stench ;  thy  soul  rush 
Forth  in  the  hideous  aspect  it  conceals, 
And  men  and  dogs  flee  thee  as  a  monster! 
Ah,  thou  adder,  thou  liar,  that  thine  eye 
May  flash  the  bane  it  keeps,  all  beholding, 
All  fall  who  approach ;   that  mouthed  snake 
Increase,  may  it  coil  round  your  neck  and  squeeze, 
Dangle  in  leaping,  lapping  flames  of  hell. 
Go,  go.     My  veins  are  rushing  virulence! 
My  revenge  would  drench't  in  thy  hateful  blood. 
Get  thee  out!   get  thee  out! 

Chas.  But,  but- 

Mary.  Go !  Gone !    [Exit  CHAS. 


ACT  II,  SCENE  I.  39 

O  fortune,  thou  deformed  and  gnarling  god, 
Thou  blood-brain  of  revolt,  thou  hissing  hand 
Of  hundred  fangs,  heart  —  Behold,  behold. 

Enter  JOHN. 

From  base  suspicion  free  thee  fore  further 
Thou  com'st  near. 

John.  My  dear,  in  dense  dishonor. 

Ah  then,  no  nearer  dear  I  come  helpless 
On  this  guilt. 

Mary.     Hast  thou  learned  the  shining  superficial 
Needs  quicker  patching  than  the  drab?    to  life 
How  is  lustre  little  value,  but  makes 
The  mender  harder  matching?     Reputation's 
Most  sheer  exterior  elegance  torn 
How  e'en  the  devil  may  not  darn  that  rent's 
Disclosure?     Then  be  true,  be  no  more  fraud. 
For  insincere  stumbling  in  suspicion 
Conspicuous  in  his  plight;   just  as  lives 
Like  plots  complex  in  extrication  cheap; 
For  dissimulation  wears  a  danger, 
The  slink  oft  leaves  his  sleeve  upon  a  nail; 
Since  hypocrisy  must  sleep,  exposure 
Is  a  most  stealthy  tyrant  of  the  night. 
Hark  and  hear:    Sir,  I  now  do  bid  you  go. 

John.     Ah,  I  met  thee  but  to  mourn  thee,  kissed 

thee 

But  to  weep  thee ;   blessed  to  be  so  unblessed ; 
And  wild  love's  illimitable  delight 
Such  illimitable  sorrow  doth  brave 
My  confines  of  endurance.     Ocean  thought 
On  humble  shores  of  each  succeeding  day 
For  life  to  be  the  gulf  of  my  despair. 
Adieu,  my  dear.     Anon,  dear,  I'll  return. 


40  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

And  'twill  maybe  to  prove  my  innocence.         [Exit, 
Mary.     And  gone  with  that  voice  art  the  angels 

flown 

But  now  so  thronging  my  felicity. 
The  world  wearies  on  in  errand  of  heart.         [Exit. 


SCENE   II.     Robbers'   Camp  in   Wood. 
GARRETT,   a  Robber. 

Gar.     In  the  e'er  descending  scale  of  baseness; 
From  hills  of  culture  to  gullies  vulgar; 
From  society's  comfort  to  spurs  of  flight; 
From  life  with  men  to  life  of  flight  from  men. 
Thief.     Again.     Again  thief.     A  chief  of  thieves. 
Ah,  but  for  a  Monica  to  pray  for  me! 
Before  my  Rome  a  mother  plead  with  me! 
To  be  ruffian  methinks  my  fate's  decreed 
For  my  nature's  dark,  my  mind's  a  monster, 
My  heart's  degenerate  and --They  are  not. 
How  quick  in  quaint  nomenclature  we  can 
Rig  defect  in  disfavor  and  must  stay! 
As  in  soft  phrase  couch  our  compunctious  grief, 
And  in  palliating  accusation 
Build  our  abomination, 
In  mud  other  term  slick  o'er  the  exact! 
I'm  not  bad  at  heart  but  bad  in  manner 
Gotten.     My  birth's  to  blame  that  I'm  a  rogue 
And  thus  a  thief  so  full  of  villainy. 
Yea,  as  once  a  maiden  wantoned  in  crime's 
Unhallowed  sheets  behold  the  collied  fire 
The  phenix  springs,  'twas  I  —  'twas  then  —  begot. 
Yet,  perhaps  the  girl  I  do  condemn  her. 
Some  polished  scoundrel  used  in  conning 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  41 

Strumpets,  and  virtue  deigning  dalliance 

Promenade, 

O  then  to  meet  persuasions  from  the  street. 

Now  for  charnel  house  I'd  change  my  shame, 

My  portion  in  the  world  for  asylum 

With  the  dead.  —  I  wax  sad.     My  state  must  stand. 

In  face  of  no  alternative  I  should 

Be  pleasant.     Oho,  this—-  Oh  no,  this  sore 

Too  old  and  sore  to  soothe  in  the  absurd, 

And  this  ache  to  tickle  in  the  gewgaw 

Of  an  empty  word. 

Enter  AGNES,  disguised  and  garbed  a  robber. 
Come  here,  dear  fellow. 

Agnes.     Aye,  aye.     Commend  my  mind  to  your 

command. 
Gar.     Last   night   when   I   would   be  ambushed 

'twas  thou 

Swerved  this  assassin's  sword?     Saved  my  life? 
Agnes.  Ay. 

Gar.     It  was  most  adroit,  and  so  timed  in  time's 
Own  nicety.     Undoubtedly  thou'rt  sent, 
Divinely  to  prevent  this  wretch  killing  me. 
Dear  friend,  my  tongue  is  fool  in  softer  school, 
And  if  I  mutter  thanks  I  mock  my  thanks.  — 
Thou  art  not  masculine,  excuse  if  I  say't 
Tender  built;    thy  flesh  in  folds,  nor  knotted 
For  world's  warfare.     He'd  killed  me,  he'd  turned 

on  thee. 

Agnes.     Thou  dost  think  too  much  of  it.     Well, 
so  long.  [Going. 

Gar.     Thy    voice    is    soft;     the    skeleton    doth 
stalk.  — 


42 


EDWARD   GARRET T. 


But ;   I  am  burning  gratitude.     Tell  me 

For  thee  in  my  power  aught  act  may  repay 

An'  if  'twere  pick  mountains  off  Sahara. 

Agnes.     Ne'er  to  wed  determined  yet 

lovest  me 
Thou  dost.     Determination  like  sleepless 

savage 
Peep'th  perdu  behind  that  soul  strains 

to  me. 

Aye,  behind  thy  gratitude  thou  art  brute ; 
Behind  thy  gratitude  thou'rt  stubborn  still. 
Garrett,  when  thou  art  weaker  in  thy  will 
Time  then  am  opportune.  Till  then  must 

wait 

Fore  again  an'  plead  my  heart  and  know 
What  cursed  strangness  keeps  thee  from 

me. 

Gar.     A  secret  chacks  in  silence;    tell  me  it. 
Lad,  did  not  thy  lady  love  thee  fairly? 
Ah,  for  sure,  these  grains  of  thymy  mischief 
Weigh  in  truth  so  tremendous  on  a  man. 
Is't  this  weights  thy  gait?     For  sir  I  have  much 
Observed  thy  solemn  step,  o'erweary  pace 
In  stately  sad  and  tempered  gravity. 
I'm  thy  friend,  confide  in  me  thy  sorrow. 

Agnes.     In   this   villainous   morass   wherein   we 

meet 

Wouldst  have  me  take  thee  for  a  confident? 
For  where  couldst  find  men  deeper  dyed  in  villainy  ? 
More  universal  criminal,  odious  and  base; 
More  contemptible,  treacherous  to  the  core; 
More  false,  insensate,  sodden  wretches 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  43 

Than  in  this  bunch  of  knaves  collected  here? 

Than  in  this  medley  camp  of  ruffians? 

Where?      Captain?      Nowhere.      Thou'rt  but  dog 

in    front. 

I  have  my  friends  in  whom  ofttimes  I  confide. 
Excuse  me  if  in  my  friends  I  wish  to  still  confide. 

Gar.     Boy,  wert  bold  in  truth,  mean  in  subter 
fuge, 

Not  now  in  the  boggy  land  of  outlaws. 
Confide,  dear  friend,  gratitude  thy  server. 

Agnes.     Nay,  thy  expressions  gratitude  my  boon 
To  further  service.     Yea  I  will  be  true.        [Going. 

Gar.     Some  twenty  days  ago  I  was  near  death ; 
A  peculiar  accident. 

Agnes.  Tell   me   it. 

Gar.     You  were  going.     Dost  stop  just  to  hear 
this? 

Agnes.     I  do. 

Gar.  You  said  you  would  be  true.     Will 

you  ? 
Just  let  me  hear  thy  childish  speech  again. 

Agnes.     But  wilt  not  tell  me  of  this  accident? 
How  thou  cam'st  so  near  to  thy  death? 

Gar.  I  will. 

O  'tis  dreadful,  I  know  no  other  word, 
As  when  this  world  of  mortal  man  o'er  whelms 
In  that  awful  revolution.     From  wilds 
Unknown  of  a  body's  boundaries  lost, 
Is  dear  nature  coming  to  the  struggle 
With  unseen  forces  of  thy  million  fears. 
Flesh  is  spending  spasms  supernatural 
To  save  it  pounding  void ;  steel  splintering  strength 


44  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Emptying  in  the  atmosphere;  frothing 
Efforts  volleys  in  the  catchless  ether; 
And  utmost  in  a  multitude  of  doves 
Pouring  from  the  loft  of  power.     Meanwhile 
The  brain  destraught  in  double  tragedy. 
Thought  in  terror,  as  while  the  mind  reviews; 
The  spirit  gasps,  a  whirlwind  in  the  soul. 
For  lo,  in  vision  there  appears  my  life, 
With  its  mountains,  and  its  cascades  rushing; 
With  its  plains  and  shadows  chasing.     My  youth, 
So  serene,  so  enrapturingly  fair; 
Spring  we'd  say  buttoned  up  in  her  splendors, 
Like  a  fairy  isle  sunk  in  an  ocean 
Innocence.     On  sudd'n  trembles  to  the  tread 
Of  angry,  its  most  surly  arbiter. 
Behold,  'tis  I  in  pride,  offense  and  sin. 
Look,  look!     The  isle  erupts,  the  skies  convulse! 
The  green  and  glitter  gone.     Madness;  remorse! 
For  a  curse  is  on,  and  the  day  is  damned ; 
The  land  of  my  enchantment  is  no  more. 
By  my  soul  —  Ah,  but  yet  let  me  first  ask 
Wert  thou  e'er  spread  in  sweat  condensed  of  death? 
Of  those  ominous  drops  of  horror  wet 
And  cold  of  ulterior  hand?     No?     Ne'er 
In  the  icy  gust  of  death's  pushed  open 
Gates  caressed? 

Nor  from  thence  the  diabolical  burst 
Of  death's  licentious  laughter?     Heard   from  hell 
That  dread  sonorous  resonance  as  thought 
Ne'er  echoed  in  corridors  of  mortal? 
I  mean,  wert  thou  ne'er  in  accident  nigh  closed 
Upon  existence?     Shook  on  the  feeble 
Shoot  of  life?     Answer  now.     No? 
Agnes.  See  the  wretch 


ACT  11,  SCENE  II.  45 

How  he  quakes  at  the  meeting  of  his  soul.  — 

Gar.     No?    ah?  [Aside. 

Agnes.  No. 

Gar.  Then  'tis  impossible  tell. 

Agnes.     Twere  horrible  to  die  with  all  one's  sins 
All  still  upon  him. 

Gar.  Out,  thou  art  but  horn 

To  my  melancholy  howl. 

Agnes.  Hear  me  sir; 

Discontent  is  volant ;    from  man  to  man 
Is  silent  envy  stealing  through  the  camp. 

Gar.     What  do  they  envy? 

Agnes.  Sir,  thy  leadership. 

Gar.     These  moral  reprobates,  rebels  the  world 
Jealous  of   my   standing   'mongst   them?     Dissen 
sions, 

Dear,  are  ever  rifest  'mong  deserters. 
But  who's  sedition's  chief?     In  that  same  skin 
I  believe  is  assassin  of  my  life. 

Agnes.     Whom  do  you  most   love  in  camp? 

Gar.  Thee. 

Agnes.  But  who 

Most  courts  your  love  in  manner  likely? 

Gar.  Thee. 

Agnes.     But  who,  captain  dear,  so  with  love  and 

laugh 
So  commendatory  and  agreeing? 

Gar.     Anthony?     Dost  thou  think  that  it  is  he? 

Agnes.     Do  thou  beware.     For  my  heart  doth 

^  Pkad  it.  [ 

Gar.     Verily  a  strange  chap  and  deceptive; 


46  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

And  dipping  in  demeanor  like  a  coot 

Goes  down  sage  old  buck,  comes  up  gosling  youth ; 

First  he  doth  seem  rough  old  mountaineer; 

Next  beseems  a  gentlemanly   fellow. 

But  for  him  I  were  despoiled  my  title  man.  - 

Man;    what  fair  solemnity  in  a  name! 

A  goblet  of  unique  —  a  rose  —  a  sword  - 

A  kingdom!    gabion  of  dark  profound 

And  surname  of  that  wondrous  mystery. 

Man.     Man?     Ah,    and   what   is   man   more   than 

name? 

He's  naught  but  putrid  matter  round  a  maw; 
Mean  and  vulgar  entity  of  no  use; 
Brought  forth  by  nature,  but  a  toy  for  time; 
An  animated  atom,  but  a  scrawl 
Upon  mortality  and  form  was  man's. 
Evolved  of  nowhere  to  nowhere  speeding; 
Unwound  of  nothing  and  in  a  circle 
See  him. 

Bosh.     These  balanced  sides,  reign  of  lib'ral  lines 
Of  some  wit  directed;    these  plastic  parts 
Attempered  and  arranged  in  recesses 
Of  predestination.     Ah,   indeed  this 
Reservoir  of  blood  in  pelt  of  pattern 
On  business  fraught ;    this  putrescence  split 
And  gashed  for  some  contrivance  sure. 
Tis  true  some  day  this  flesh  must  fail,  resolve 
And  disappear  into  its  native  clay; 
But  must  this  spirit  speaking  lapse  in  that 
Demise?     Like  as  when  consciousness  into 
Unconsciousness  descends,  and  then  and  does 
My  lovely  soul  in  death  become  the  air? 
Man  I  know  thee  not,  and  what  I  know  is 
So  in  question  in  my  philosophy 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  47 

Must  hold  thee  mongrel  out  of  mystery 
And  a  doubt;    and  arrayed  dost  seem  in  eyes 
Of  my  understanding  as  it  were  twixt 
Gloom  and  myth  standing  in  the  dappled  light. 
Ah  so  —  But,  a  fool's  strength  is  in  his  theme ; 
To  be  a  fool  'tis  make  thy  theme  supreme. 

Enter  ANTHONY. 

Ah  ha.  Behold,  behold,  will  you  behold.       [Aside. 

Ant.  Ha  ha,  captain. 

Gar.  Pardon,   I  am  thinking. 

Ant.  For  thoughts  so  glum  - 
Gar.  Indeed,  I  am  merry. 

Ant.  Just  let  me  in  I'll  drive  the  laughter  out. 

Gar.  Joke  thine  nine  of  yesterday. 

Ant.  Thou  art  ill. 

'Tis  so;    forsooth  you  smile  exceeding  ill. 
'Tis  measles;    no,  I  am  wrong.     It  is  gout. 

Gar.     'Tis  measles  if  that  has  aught  to  do  with 

mean ; 

And  'tis  most  like  I  caught  the  thing  from  thee. 
No,  'tis  gout;    thou  didst  hit  upon  it  then; 
'Tis  mine  this  disease  excess.     For  hast  thou 
Not  met  that  shallow  soul  and  lean,  cheap  wit 
Sick'ning  in  his  senseless  excess?     So  long. 

Ant.     But  thy  indisposition  let  me  give 
Potion,  simple  formula  will  unclog 
The  wheel  of  health. 

Gar.  If  thou  depriv'sts  a  mouse 

Of  sense  unbless  him  not  of  scent. 

Ant.  What  think'sts? 

Gar.     Thou  stink'sts  of  treachery  and  I  mistrust 


48  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Thou  seek'sts  to  doctor  me  to  poison  me, 
To  make  succession  easy,  for  I'm  known 
Thy  sequacious  soul  aspires  a  spirit 
Leading;    thy  wish  to  be  head  in  my  stead. 
Anthony,  Anthony,  forbear  my  life.  [Exit* 

Ant.     Suspects  my  schemes,  perceives  my  strat 
egy- 

We  forget  moon  has  two  sides,  as  has  he; 
The  side  we  see,  the  side  we've  never  seen. 
One  side  beaming  fair  and  kind,  t'other  turns, 
And  now  his  hate  he  grinds  into  my  face, 
Rancor  replaceth  his  regard.     How  quaint, 
Lofty,  stiff  and  haughty  roams  he  the  earth. 
But  I'll  soon  cut  the  comb  of  his  conceit; 
And  one  prig  I  know  soon  shall  find  his  fall; 
The  silent  one  shall  tumble  to  his  end. 
Although  he  is  wary  now  and  watching, 
I'll  knife  him  yet,  and  I'll  be  captain  here. 

Enter  two  Robbers. 

He  walks  the  world  and  we  are  incidents 
Unworthy  for  his  talk. 

ist  Rob.  Well,  who's  it  now? 

Ant.     The  captain. 

ist.  Rob.  No  more  than  he  is  reserved. 

Ant.     Yes,  much  more.     Silence  stockades  him 

feeble. 

Were  given  he  to  speech  this  grand  manner 
Would  show  character  most  weak. 

ist  Rob.  Ah,  hit  him, 

Throw  him  down  and  beat  him,  knock  him,  kick 

him. 
The  fault  with  thee  is  thou  dost  talk  too  much. 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  49 

Ant.     I'll  be  captain,  you  two  my  lieutenants. 

2nd  Rob.     Good!    but  how? 

ist  Rob.  Mind  him  not,  disturb  him  not, 

Or  thoult  find  him  wolf  tearing  at  thy  throat. 

Ant.     Nominate  me,  name  me  to  be  captain, 
When  you  see  the  men  they  are  divided; 
For  I  have  wrought  in  them  a  prejudice, 
And  I  can  count  on  more  than  half  of  them. 
Here  they  come.     They  come  now;    be  in  among. 

Re-enter  AGNES,   disguised,  and  many  Robbers. 

Knights  — 

Agnes.     See,  he  will  beguile  thee  with  his  wiles; 
In  vain  titles,  gentlemen,  he'll  flatter  thee. 

Ant.     Thou  are  pert. 

Agnes.  And  thou  art  assembled  dirt. 

Ant.     Who  art  thou? 

Agnes.  I'm  the  eye  of  thy  deceit; 

The  teeth  of  thee,  thou  formed  and  fanged  fiend. 

Ant.     Thou  art  a  brat. 

Agnes.  But  with  all  my  poor  parts, 

I  don't  seek  my  friend's  life  i'  the  darkness. 

Ant.     Thou  art  a  breathing,  panting,  lying  knave. 

Agnes.     Thy  nature  is  as  black  as  blackest  night ; 
The  hole  of  thy  soul  but  a  parent  swamp 
Where  thought  is  nourished  in  contagious  depths, 
And  thou  art  bred  a  traitor. 

Ant.  You're  a  funk. 

Agnes.     What  mistake  made  thee  man  and  not 
a  skunk? 

Ant.     The  same  that  made  thee  neither  man  or 
skunk ; 


50  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Thou  barking,  whining,  singing,  whistling  fool. 

Agnes.     Thou  shameless  mess,  stinking  wretch, 

thou  vomit; 

Thou  false,  unsafe  and  deadly  crawling  worm; 
Thou  gnawing  rat ;   merciless,  biting  bat ; 
Thou  toad  of  honor ;  thou  most  loathsome  louse ; 
'Tis  vanity  of  vanity  for  thee  to  speak, 
When  thou  shouldst  purr  and  keep  thy  scratching 

state ; 
And  hiss  and  not  offend  thy  creeping  fate. 

Ant.     Insult  - 

Agnes.  Nay,  I  could  not  miss  but  praise  thee. 

Ant.     I  challenge  thee. 

Agnes.  What  mouthful  'tis  for  thee. 

Ant.     Draw,  I  declare. 

Agnes.  So  do  I;   draw  away.     [They  fight. 

My  brother  would  fight  here,  my  love  fights  here; 
And  my  love  and  blood  can  not  retreat. 

Ant.     Ah  thee,  I  almost  had  thee! 

Agnes.  Heaven  help  me! 

Heaven!    Heaven!    for  I  am  fighting  in  thy  name! 

Ant.     Just  see  his  unskill.     Aye,  before  the  count 
Of  ten  I'll  have  thee  crawling  up  my  sword; 
That  is,  the  flesh  of  thee,  the  rest  of  thee 
Shall  have  gone  to  — 

Rush  in  GARRETT. 
Gar.     Ho!   ho!   ho!   ho!     Hold  there! 

[Breaks  dozvn  their  swords. 
Anthony,  dost  pick  this  youth,  awkward  boy 
To  lay  cold?     Coward!     In  thy  teeth  I  sling't! 
Yea,  before  the  nightingale  is  in  tales 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  51 

To  the  moon  get  thee  thy  guts  and  luggage 
Out  of  camp.     Soothing  salve  and  pestilence, 
Hence  thou  worthless  breeder  of  discontent. 
Get  thee  gone,  get  thee  gone.     Or  if  there  is 
Aught  in  thy  currish  blood  can  take  offense 
I  slap  thee  with  my  hand  that  thou  wilt  stand 
And  fight  upon  this  ground  till  I  damn  thee. 

1st  Rob.     Take  courage,  Anthony. 

2nd  Rob.  Fight,  Anthony. 

Gar.     Fight,  sir,  fight,  sir,  or  else  thou  must  go. 

Ant.     Haughty  and  catarrhy,  cantankerous 
And  dyspeptic  wretch,  I  shall  have  thee  yet.     [Exit. 

Gar.     Please    an'    do    to    withdraw;     leave    me 
alone.  [To  Men. 

Please  lead  them  off;    I  want  to  be  alone. 

[Aside  to  1st  Rob. 

ist  Rob.     Come,  boys,  let  us  help  see  Anthony 
off.  [Exeunt  Men. 

Gar.     Stay  thee.  —  Sir,   duty   is  blunt  business. 

[To  AGNES. 

Hence;     Thou    must    get   out    of   here.     Get   thee 
home.  [AGNES  going. 

Stay  yet!     Thou'rt  heat  unto  my  friendly  heart. 
Why  didst  fight  him?     Twas  most  foolish  of  thee, 
For  know'st  of  swords  as  thou  dost  of  swearing. 

Agnes.     I   could   see  him   restless   till   he   killed 

thee; 
And  thou  indifferent  till  he  did  thee. 

Gar.     And  because  I  love  thee,  in  raging  vice 
I  see  thy  drowning  youth  I  send  thee  home. 
Go  out  and  woo  the  world  as  would  thy  wife; 
Or  as  thou  would  some  factious,  handsome  girl. 


52  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

If  art  poor  and  poverty  afford  thee 

But  three  hairs  braid  them.     Or  if  thou  be  rich 

Condemned  to  wealth  be  not  compelled  to  ease. 

Endeavor  be  current  problem  in  all 

Fortunes:   Aspire  alway  but  early  learn 

Thy  limit,  for  without  man's  little  lot 

It  is  cold,  he  is  hungry  and  distressed. 

Scorn  extremes,  be  a  plain  and  quiet  man, 

For  it  is  minds  advanced  perceive  the  paths 

Of  beauty  leading  to  simplicity. 

Strive  on;    to  drift  to  death  is  damnable, 

Despicable  to  shamble  in  success. 

This  ring  wear.  [Takes  ring  from  finger. 

Agnes.     No;    I'll  not. 

Gar.  Thou  wilt  wear  it. 

With  all  my  blood  and  murders  yet  I  love 
A  man  and  I  love  thee.     Thou'rt  so  gentle, 
So  good,  so  true,  and  so  unsociable, 
That  withal  I  must  think  thou'rt  honest  too. 
We  must  part.     It  shakes  my  frame  to  say  it; 
For  thou  dost  take  one  half  my  heart  with  thee. 
This  ring  wear. 

Agnes.     No;    I'll  not. 

Gar.  Thou  wilt  wear  it. 

[Slips  ring  on  AGNES'  finger,  kisses  her 
hand  and  holds  it. 

Agnes.     Ancient  fires,  how  thou  blazeth  in  my 
love !  -  [Aside. 

Take  it  off!    take  it  off!    I'll  wear  it  not, 
For  languish  lose  or  hunger  give  away; 
Better  scar,  unjoint,  figures  more  impress; 
Take't  whole  'twill  snap  thy  hydra-head  offense; 
Take't,  'twill  pluck  thee  to't ;    'twill  beckon  in  thee. 


ACT  II,  SCENE  II.  53 

Gar.     What  thing  art  thou? 

Agnes.  I  am  no  thing  at  all. 

Gar.     Sir,  tell  me,  tell  me,  tell  me  who  thou  art. 

Agnes.     I  will  tell  thee  nothing,  nothing,  nothing. 

Gar.     What   is   that   great   shame    forbids   thee 

tell  me 

Of  thy  past  some  little  circumstance?     Bright 
Suits  seek  display,  the  sockless  but  avoid 
Exposure.     Defy  thy  pride  and  tell  me. 

Agnes.     I    told    thee    what    I    would    tell    thee ; 
nothing. 

Gar.     Thou  art  condemned  to  death  or  I  must 

know. 

I  ft  be  in  thy  throat  I  will  tear  it  out; 
I  ft  be  in  thy  heart  I  will  pluck  it  there. 
This  is  no  boast  that  listens  to  the  breeze; 
'Tis  an  oath  that  takes  from  God  His  jacket; 
'Tis  a  wild  man's  menace  thou  shouldst  beshrew; 
Madness  that'll  chuck  thy  entrails  in  thy  face; 
Suck  thy  dying  breath  till  thy  secret  rout; 
And  whistle  after  thee  down  the  road  to  hell ! 

Agnes.     Harm  me  not!     O  spare  me! 

Gar.  I'll  spare  thee  not ! 

Agnes.     O  then,   O  sir,   O  through  this  ring  I 
ask  — 

Gar.     O  gracious  sir,  I  kneel,  press  for  pardon. 
[Kisses  AGNES'  hand  again. 

And  still  upon  my  knee  do  I  implore ;  — 
Tell  I  beg  thee,  in  what  art  wise  of  me. 
Thou'll  not  go  to  hell   for  being  honest ; 
Then  tell  me  art  crazy  and  but  warble. 


54  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Or  strange  through  ways  of  artificial  man 

Individual  in  facts  fore  my  life? 

^  Agnes.     A  mortal  mourns  thee  on  a  rock  teary, 

Stark  and  starless ;  bound  to  night  of  her  woe ; 

Lost  in  the  darkness  of  a  hopeless  day. 

Once  lily  tall  now  rakish  restant; 

And  form  and  grace  empetalled  in  its  grief  : 

In  her  swamp  of  death  a  reed  all  unblessed; 

Most  perfect  flower  shrivelled  in  despair. 

One  more  round  fit  circle  of  thy  fancy? 

Ignoble  cur  an'  to  fancy's  fitful 

Circumstance?     I  know  not.     Thy  ring  I'll  keep. 

[Exit. 
Gar.     So  strange,   most  strange,   so  canny  and 

unreal. 

I'll  take't  for  omen,  find  my  Agnes  out. 
To-night  to  her  nor  in  my  birth  bury  her. 
No  more  the  craven  thing  but  trust  to  love 
Thou  wilt  not  scorn  if  learn  how  I  was  —  Hist ! 

Enter  1ST  ROBBER. 
ist  Rob.     Captain,  this  stranger's  gone. 
Gar.  And  Anthony? 

/^  Rob.     Here. 

Gar.  He'll  not  return.     Bid  Anthony 

wait. 

'Gainst  bear  'tis  safer  be  in  company; 
An'  goes  my  way  we  may  travel  for  a  day. 
ist  Rob.     Do  you  intend  to  go  away? 
Gar.  I  do. 

I  will  speak  with  Anthony  myself.     Come, 

[Exeunt 


ACT  II,  SCENE  Ilf.  55 

SCENE  III.     Two  Rooms  in  Carroll's. 
In  Room  2.    GARRETT  and  ANTHONY  eating. 

Gar.     Why  so  opposed  to  enter  here  for  food? 
Ant.     And  did  I  look  opposed? 
Gar.  Well  you  said  so. 

Ant.     Eager  to  be  cute  ofttimes  tricks  the  truth. 
Enter  SERVANT  with  more  food. 

Gar.     Servant  of  this  manor  thine's  a  goodly  act, 
Indeed,  for  since  the  eve  our  leaving  camp, 
Long-starved  and  saddle-sore  we  have  travelled, 
In  our  woods-man  bold  attire  not  daring 
A  village  enter,  two  days  we've  hungered, 
Nor  yet  have  tasted  more  than  brackish  water. 
Be  thou  content  to  take  as  giving  we. 

[Gives  servant  gold. 
Enter  MARY  CARROLL  in  Room  i.    Listens. 

Ant.     Tell  me,  how  long  have  you  been  servant 

here? 
Ser.     Ah,   these  years.     Since  mistress'   mother 

married. 

Ant.     Is  thy  mistress'  mother  living? 
Ser.  She's  not. 

Ant.     Is  thy  mistress'  father  dead  ? 
Ser.  Aye,  he  is. 

In  Room   i. 

Mary.     One  voice  in  habiliments  familiar. 
Who?     Who?     Wits,    my    wits    where    so    wildly 
run? 


56  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Ha,  the  friends  in  recollection.     No?     Yea. 

For  I  will  swear  I've  heard  somewhere  that  voice. 

In  Room  2. 

Ant.     How'd  he  die? 

Ser.  T  faith  didn't;  murdered  was  he. 

Mistress'  cousin-german  killed  him. 

Ant.  That's  me.  [Aside. 

How  do  you  know? 

Ser.     I  don't;    the  mistress  knows. 

Ant.     Where's  she? 

Ser.  Asleepin',  behaps  adreamin'. 

Gar.     Anthony,  I  leave  thee  at  the  cross-roads. 
Sir;     with    me    to    the    stable.       [To     Servant.] 
Anthony  ? 

Ant.     Wait    me;     wait    for    me.     I'll    be   there 
direct.  [Exeunt  GAR.  and  Servant. 

In  Room  i. 

Mary.     Those  words  with  teeth  in  them.     Now 

I  know  thee! 
'Tis  he!     Tis  now  I  understand  that  tongue. 

In  Room  2. 

Ant.     Time's  here;    the  opportunity  is  now, 
In  thy  guts  leave  a  knife  for  thee  to  clutch. 
For  my  crime  in  proof  stirs  and  sleeps  with  thee; 
I'll  creep  to  where  she  dreams  and  advance  her. 
Marry,  Mary,  as  did  thy  father  go, 
So  groanless  thou  I  shall  speed  to  join  him. 

Enter  ANTHONY,  Room  i. 
Mary.     Hold!    Ha,    Anthony.      Behold    her    in 
grace 


ACT  II,  SCENE  III.  57 

Thy  wrong's  revenge  hath  given.     Shrink,  diminish, 
Canst  escape  these  weary   years  precision. 

[Unfolds  a  knife. 

Look  for  to  see  this  cast  iron  that  ploughed 
My  father's  simple  heart ;  as  stained  in't 
This  steel  ran  his  sacred  stream  —  death's  ground 

edge 

So  took  up  in  the  temple  of  his  life. 
Twas  thou  mad'st  hallowed  home  a  haunted  hole; 
And  hung  a  pall  o'er  this  benighted  house; 
Stuck  eye  of  fate  in  this  forbidding  gloom, 
To  wink  at  us  in  this  unlucky  place. 
His  eyes  were  ope,  thy  knife  was  in  his  breast. 
Heap  a  prayer,   for  thy  wrong  erects  reward; 
Thy  end's  at  hand,  let  clang  thy  last  amen; 
With  my  habitual  curse  to  damn  thee, 
Me  now  intends  to  push  thee  into  hell, 
Thou  cursed,  most  accursed,  damnable  villain! 

Re-enter  GARRETT,  Room  2. 

Gar.     The  servant's  bound;  I've  lead  the  horses 

round. 
Anthony!     Anthony!     Where  has  he  gone? 

Enter  GARRETT,  Room  i. 
Mary.     Monster  of  hate,  slaughter's  slave,  thou 

diest ! 

Ant .     No !    no ! 

Mary.  My  father's  murderer,  thou  wilt! 

[Holds  knife  to  strike. 
Gar.     Let  not  that  dagger  judge  thee! 

[Knife  falls;  ANT.  picks  it  up  and  holds 
to  strike. 


58  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Mary.  Ho !     Mercy ! 

Ant.     I  am  mercy's  monkey.     Dig  there !    Punk, 
plunge!       [Attempts  to  strike  and  GAR.  kills. 
Gar.     An  ape  may  never  more  than  imitate !  — 
Woman,  own'st  thou  that  remarkable  reptile 
Blush  for  it  nor  look  so  pale  in  horror. 
For  when  recreants  return  wherefore  grieve? 
The   grave    their    rightful    keepers.     Coils    wound 

round, 

He  was  ever  snake  glinting  in  the  grass, 
Panting  in  precaution,  so  pernicious 
In  security,  —  ah,  a  tear  ?   my  dear, 
He's  not  worth  it. --Thou  unexampled  thief 
How   sleep'sts?     And   lo,   the  villain's  arm  grows 

stiff! 

How  oft  i5  the  night  did't  lift  cleave  my  neck 
An'  but  to  find  mine  were  watchful  higher? 
There,  repose  thy  arms;    there's  thy  head  heaven 
ward.  [Fixes  him. 
Mary.     Man,  thou  art  fair. 
Gar.                           Ah,  yes;   some.     But  where? 
Mary.     Great  — 

Gar.  But  sad  in  faculties'  expression. 

Mary.     How  odd  - 

Gar.  Greatness  is  agate  oddities. 

Mary.     Thy  voice  sounds  to  me  fondest  melody. 
Gar.     But  I  swear  I  cannot  help  it,  madam. 
Mary.     My  prince,   my  passion  — 
Gar.  Nay,  passionate  prince. 

Mary.     My    prince,    I    do    plead    for    thee    my 
passion. 


ACT  II,  SCENE   III,  59 

Gar.     So  it  seems ;  but  that  does  not  demean  me. 
Mary.     Thy  life's  fair  plan  my  span  of  destiny. 
Gar.     Straddle  of  his  fate,  cover  of  his  doom. 
Mary.     I  love  thee.  [Points  at  ANT. 

Gar.  Thou  liest. 

Mary.  'Tis  truth. 

Gar.  'Tis  rot. 

Mary.     I  flatter  thee  - 
Gar.  No,  I  am  too  human. 

Mary.     I  beg  thy  pardon  if  I  flatter  thee. 
Gar.     But  you  don't,  you  feed  it  me  with  shovel. 
Mary.     I  flatter  thee  and  ply  thee  to  the  end, 
That  thou,  O  sir,  wilt  take  the  body  out. 
Gar.     Is  thy  name  Carroll? 
Mary.  'Tis. 

^  Gar-  Ugh  !     I  know  thee. 

Gave  thy  hand  two  brothers  within  a  week 
If  but  thy  record  I  remember  right. 
Thou  cam'st  near  being  in  the  family, 
But  it  happed  there  were  only  brothers  two. 
Mary.     Who  is  he  — 

Gar-  Mine's  Ephesian  history. 

In  removal,  woman  thou,  be  minute, 
For  suspicion's  a  most  relentless  sleuth: 
Too,  procrastination  is  a  sophist 
Dissipating  opportunity.  [Going. 

Mary.  No! 

Waters  in  a  tumult,  scorn  a  tempest 
In  the  heavens  wilt  launch  me  to  contumely, 
To  death,  to  base  and  depthless,  dark  disgrace! 
They'll  say  I  did't ;   remove,  for  I  cannot. 


60  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Gar.     My  safety  is  thy  sleep  in  incident ; 
Thy  head  chopped  off  the  circumstance  is  dead. 

Mary.     Trust  me  in  sworn  and  solemn  secrecy! 

Gar.     Woman's   secrecy's  hangman's   noose   for 

fools. 

Well,  remember  speech  is  specious,  silence 
Is  immortal  logic.  —  Say  he's  heavy. 

[Exeunt  through  Room  i,  GAR.  dragging  ANT. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE    I.     Cabin    in    mountains    about    Almont 
Manor. 

Enter  GARRETT,  OLT  and  BEN. 

Gar.     Thou  art,  for  and  each  word  I  say  is  true. 
Both  of  thee  kings  of  infinite  domain. 
Laugh  not:    idiots  push  where  wise  men  pause. 
Oppose  with  limits  the  ends  of  thine  own 
Nature ;   let  thought  sit  down  at  its  borders 
And  but  ponder  thy  bounds  of  creation. 
Behold  thy  power  incomparable; 
Behold  the  splendent  army  of  thy  might ; 
Manoeuvring  on  fields  of  thy  existence; 
Putting  to  rout  the  universal  night; 
Freeing  the  ages  of  enlightened  life; 
Yea,  hear  the  crashing  shackles  of  the  world 
Tumbling  to  thy  will.     For  doth  it  not  breathe 
Rebellion  in  the  intellect  regnant 
Kings  to  serve  the  censure  of  a  captious 
Master?  —  Thou  art,  each  word  I  speak  is  truth, 
Sovereigns  over  everlasting  realms; 


ACT  III,  SCENE  I.  61 

Eternal  monarchs  of  undying  time; 
The  emperors  of  a  tractless  empire. 
Go  if't  behooveth  thee;   the  way  is  wide. 
Olt.     Mine  - 

Ben.  Nay,  stop,  stop.     Nay  he  doth  but  fool 

thee. 

Gar.     Hold  though.     But  once  thou  wert  young. 

Hunt  again 

In  innocence;    regale  again  with  truth; 
Turn  back  the  deluge  of  thy  blood  and  guilt ; 
Ah,  knaves,  forget  the  fighting  prostitutes 
In  armor  of  thy  forging;   drink,  thieves,  thought 
At  freedom's  font  of  fear;    tremble  murd'rers 
In  voice  of  conscience's  dread  authority : 
Turn  back  the  deluge  of  thy  blood  and  guilt ; 
Stand  again  in  thy  unpolluted  age; 
See  in  memory  thy  unsullied  youth ; 
Those  scenes  of  childhood  call  thee  back  again. 
And  didst  leave  upon  thy  fortune  and  fear 
Their  ridicule  without  it?   or  jilted 
By  some  laughing  damsel  wouldst  spite  thy  life 
In  crime's  career?     Go  if  thou  dost  wish  it. 

Olt.     What  drove  me  from  home  was  — 

Ben-  Wilt  thou  shut  up? 

Gar.     List   instructions.      I    was   born   thousand 

miles 

From  here.     My  mother  had  sixteen  children ; 
But  of  this  big  brood  yet  but  I  am  left. 
Some  were  still-born;    some  came  in  three,    four 

months ; 

And  I  remember  there  was  one  I  killed. 
Cousin  or  second  cousin  none  have  I ; 
So  do  not  question  through  the  country  who 


62  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

I  am.     I  beg  of  thee  not  bother  me. 

If  seem  in  sorrow  do  not  comfort  me; 

Or  in  silence  just  leave  me  in  the  same. 

Pray,  with  me  do  not  interfere,  invite 

Me  to  confer,  thy  disputes  refer,  yea 

Or  nor  be  two  sycophantic  asses. 

For  I  seek  certain  woman  I  am  here. 

This  hut's  base  operations  in  her  quest. 

Follow  me  I  show  thee  how  the  land  lays.    [Exeunt. 


SCENE   II.     Aim-on? s   Garden,     MARION. 

Mar.     O  see  the  east!    behold  the  breaking  day! 
Behold  the  wondrous  painting  of  the  sky! 
See  how  the  surpassing  hand  of  genius 
As  with  blood  made  yon  dear  heights  vermilion; 
Behold  how  the  lavish  hand  of  nature 
Hath  spent  its  gold  to  lend  the  heavens  its  hue; 
See  the  rapturous  blue  how  it  looks  through 
Sacred  blending  of  this  transcending  scene! 
Yea  behold  how  the  clouds  are  tinged  with  flame 
For  a  frame  for  this  celestial  picture! 
O  light  what  art !    what  sea  of  sympathy ! 
Careless  execution  of  the  sublime! 
O  dawn,  O  morn  how  thou  art  beautified 
In  noiseless  labors  of  the  night!     Such  medley 
Of  charms  awakes  my  gracious  wonderment; 
And  such  divine  arrangement  is  in  this, 
That  my  soul  of  hopes  takes  inspiration; 
My  intuitive  knee  bends  to  thee,  O  God.  — 
Tis  spring;    filled  of  balm  and  Elysian  calm. 
Thought  eterne  doth  kiss  the  hand  of  nature; 
E'en  as  the  oak  does  curtsy  to  the  elm; 


ACT  III,  SCENE  II.  63 

The  stream  seems  fuddled  in  new-found  passion; 
And  like  love's  ineffable  sentiment, 
Confused  i'  the  cheek,  so  bespeaks  the  sense, 
So  color  the  fields  for  the  part  it  feel'sts. 
'Tis  spring;    and  terrine  havior  make  profane 
To  move  in  less  than  grace.  —  My  favorite 

[Talks  to  flower. 

Flower  saved  I  from  winter's  fang,  tell  me 
The  things  of  thy  mute  world  so  beautiful 
To  know.     Exquisite  in  thy  crimson  skirt, 
Thy  purple  polonaise,  and  golden  slippers 
So  airily,  fairily  tripping  it 
To  tireless  sorc'ry's  swift  Terpsichore ;- 
More  pleased  in  praise,  quicker  in  my  presence, 
Life  and  refinement  be  not  a  goose,  tell 
Whereof  the  hues  dyed  my  lady's  texture.  — 
Tis  spring;    and  fair  earth  is  sown  in  sanction: 
Arbutus  tells  o'er  its  eternal  tale; 
The  violet  hardy  in  devotion 
To'ts  rugged,  pagan  regularity. 
The  sparrow  pipes  its  ancient,  little  lay; 
The  dove's  out  to  welcome  its  awakening; 
The  crow's  forth  to  interp'rate  its  delight ; 
And  —  Charles,  Verness;    how  early  in  affairs 

[Exit. 
Enter  CHARLES,  VERNESS. 

Ver.     Then   'tis  agreed  paid   this  amount   she's 
mine? 

Chas.     If  the  farmer  follow  not  his  pickers 
He'll  market  half  his  crop.  -      'Tis  not  agreed 
As  you  have  granted.  [Aside. 

Ver.     The  price's  on  your  lips. 


64  EDWARD  GARRETT. 

Chas.     Beauty  yet  unbreathed  to  bloom,  yet  un- 

come 
In  the  opening  season  of  its  flower. 

Ver.     As  I  have  heard  thee  prating  still  before. 

Chas.     A  marvel  justly  carved  in  gentle  truth; 
In  whose  pliant  lines  grace  without  equal. 

Ver.     Even  as   art   given  to   repeating. 

Chas.     Pre-eminent  in  her  kind,  and  undimmed 
In  the  radiance  of  her  loveliness. 

Ver.     Tis  but  echo  of  what  has  said  before. 

Chas.     So  amorous  in  her  innocence  as 
Make  us  melancholy  for  our  scandals. 

Ver.     And  if  I  deal  with  thee  maybe  Fm  stuck. 

Chas.     What  divinity  of  form!    matchless  face! 
Think  delights  there  dally;    possession,  weigh't. 

Ver.     Draw  document  honor. 

Chas.  Honor  needs  none. 

Ver.     A  mark  in  understanding  stops  debate, 
And  devil  recoils  from  no  discussion. 

Chas.     Will  chicanes  in  obligation  jealous. 

Ver.     If  men  are  mailed  in  skirmish  first  with 

straws, 

Well  then  were  not  prevision  happier 
For  then  in  having  been  particular? 

Chas.     Thou  finished  fool  wise,  but  in  thine  own 
words.  [Aside. 

Ver.     Yea? 

Chas.         How  much  more  for  me  before  I  sign  ? 

Ver.     A  tenth. 

Chas.  Just  two  thirds  more  we  will  make  it. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  II.  65 

Ver.  I'll  not. 

Chas.  Then  we'll  call't  just  a  third. 

Ver.  I'll  not. 

C/MW.  I  think  I  better  not  go  into  this. 

Ver.  For  a  third  wilt  sign  contract  I  shall  write? 

Chas.  Just  write  the  contract  and  I  will  sign  it. 

[VERNESS  sits  to  table  and  writes. 
Her   cheek   contends   the   rose; 
Her  eyes  defy  the  skies. 
She  is  fair,  she  is  fond, 
This  image  of  my  soul. 
What  a  comical  sprawl!     If  'tis  witty 
As  'tis  written  — 

Ver.  Sign  it. 

Chas.  What's  that? 

Ver.  Sign  it. 

Why  do  you   not   sign   it? 

Chas.  I  will  not  sign. 

Is   not   father   dead   and   mother?     Strikes   me 
That  thou  wert  absent  at  their  funerals. 
Ver.     I  was  away  — 
Chas.  Liar.     Thou  wert  not  there. 

Then,  the  contract  is  not  equitable. 

Ver.     Then  if  no,  earth  contains  no  contract  so. 

Chas.     The  contract  is  too  contradictory. 

Ver.     But  tell  me  wherein  it  doth  not  agree. 

Chas.     Besides  the  contract  calls  for  not  enough. 

Ver.     Would  beggar  make? 

Chas.  Beggary  elevate. 

Ver.     If  thou  art  obdurate  then  I  must  go. 


66  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Chas.     Pass  along  the  money  and  I  will  sign. 

[VER.  counts  out.     CHAS.  recounts. 

But  ah;  wherefore  an'  my  dear  is  that  third? 
Ver.     To-morrow  — 
Chas.  And  to-morrow  I  shall  sign. 

Enter  GARRETT. 
Dread  the  devil !    hogs  and  ignorance !     Pest ! 

Gar.     I  am  voice  from  the  sepulchre.     Aghast! 
Did  thy  tongue  turn  reptile  and  attacking; 
Did  the  demons  in  thee  dance  before  thee; 
Thy  surprise  not  more  nor  hate  more  rooted. 
I  am  returned.     Think  not  basely  of  me; 
Secrete  in  thy  malice  naught  unkindly; 
Nor  let  craft  crowd  thee  into  killing  me. 
Let  not  success  be  thief  of  other  thought, 
Nor  push  cross  borders  anger,  ruth  and  blood ; 
For  murder's  my  shroud,  my  soul's  a  brothel : 
Descend  thou  into  verity  I  am 
Thy  ladder  into  hell.  —  And  thee,  Verness, 
Be  not  puppet  too  native  to  the  spring, 
Yea  my  dear  an'  do  fence  thee  from  that  thing. 

Ver.     Let's  be  out  of  here.  [To  CHAS. 

Enter  OLT  and  BEN. 

Chas.  Whose  cut-throats  are  those? 

Olt.     They  talk  like  friends  of  yours.    [To  GAR. 
Gar.  And  so  they  are. 

Chas.     Not  room  enough  there  come  up  to  the 
house.  [Exeunt  VER.  and  CHAS. 

Gar.     Hello. 
Olt.  Hello. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  III.  67 

Gar.  Well,  what  do  you  know? 

Ben.     This     Nance    went    away    on    trip     for 

pleasure. 

Olt.     And  found  it  so  pleasant  did  not  return. 
Ben.     Her  mother's  dead  they  said  of  broken 

heart. 

Gar.     She  is  not  returned.     She  is  not  returned. 
Where,  where,  O  God,  hath  my  Agnes  gone? 
Be  Thou  monster  or  be  Thou  merciful, 
Hear  me ;  out  of  the  world  a  man  I  cry, 
For  my  bleeding  heart  staggers  in  the  dark. 
Come  back,  Agnes,  for  life's  dear  light  it  out ; 
Fierceness  of  despair  whips  me  to  the  end; 
Impenetrable  night  envelopes  me; 
And  a  certain  madness  creeps  upon  me. 
The  demon  of  my  grief  whelps  more  demons ; 
My  sorrow  splits  in  a  million  passions ; 
The  volcano  of  my  love  vomits  fire !  [Exit. 

Ben.     That    inhuman    dog.     Who    would    have 
guessed  it. 

Olt.     He  must  be  an  ass  to  think  of  her  so. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  III.     Cabin  in  Mountains  about  Almont 
Manor;    GARRETT. 

Gar.     Space  and  compass  minister  to  this  grace; 
Powers  in  prospect  keep  from  harm  my  Nance. 
How  ill  fit  thee  this  gross,  unpolished  sphere. 
Point  perfect,  tower  of  excellence,  untamed 
Degree.     Woman  wide,  heaven  deep,  true  as  truth ; 
For  ne'er  did  ways  so  run  in  quantity 


68  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

And  proportion.     Before  I  met  thee  thus, 

And  happy  Agnes  Nance.     But  now  unhomed, 

Non-bound,  unguided  and  ungoverned  —  lost. 

But  the  curse  it  stands  —  I  met  thee. 

Like  havoc  in  the  sleep  of  innocence, 

Villain  fleet  as  angel,  woe  on  wings 

Of  stealth.     Then   fairest  modesty  succeed 

Of  its  shame;    beauty  poured  aloft  ornate 

In  simple  sanctity  stripped  as  in  the 

Pathetic  spell- work  of  the  palmer- worm; 

Purity  in  obscurity  like  snow 

The  shadow  shelters  until  trespassed  laws 

Of  lust  vast  as  vanity.     Ah,  too  late 

Does  folly  speed  the  errand  of  regrets, 

Heed  ruptures  hard  processional  on 

Disesteem ;    for  then  my  turn  straight  it  spurns, 

I,  spurn  of  womb,  man  and  world,  creation, 

And  creator,  I  of  dishonesty 

Thine  only  honesty  refused.     Surly, 

Sententious,   dogged,   fickle   fool,   outcast 

Send  thee;    thy  face  upturned  and  piteous 

Finds  no  pity  in  me;    kneeling,  pleading, 

Advantage  falling  whips  upon  complaint. 

Tis  true  once  a  slave  can  best  lash  a  slave ; 

The  wretch  who's  always  borne  contemptuous  fate. 

To  an  other's  can  add  science  to  their  load. 

My  heart  a  groan;   a  tear  it  knew  the  road. 

A  villain  may  love  when  men  emotioned 

Ordinary  are  known  but  vows  and  mode. 

Eye  for  a  glance!     O  for  daylight  of  thy  smile 

In  these  thick  senses  fast  and  dark!     What  fields 

And  cities  may  grow  o'er  partition;    what 

Passionless  sky  stretch  its  successive  length; 

This  epoch  of  my  longing  rumbling  on; 


ACT  III,  SCENE  111.  69 

This  waste  of  desert  air  in  mournful  dirge 

Blows  from  my  unhappiness.  —  But  why  pout 

O'er  portion  when  it  is  doom  admeasures? 

Or  a  rabbit  stamp  enjoined  by  lion? 

Or  hope  with  grace  and  tears  of  antelope 

Fate  to  captivate?     I  know  what  I'll  do. 

Agnes,  I  will  learn  to  hate  thee!     Just  so, 

I  will  scribble  billet  muse  or  read  it  [Writes. 

Ev'ry  tolling  hour  till  eternity 

Take  care  of  me.     Till  then  I  will  do  it, 

Though  I  become  maniac  rehearsing. 

Agnes,  ne'er  again  shall  puny  impluse 

Gather  me  to  thee.     Unto  my  pocket, 

Now  and  know  thou  art  to  patch  a  sadness. 

[Paper  falls.      Exit. 
Enter  AGNES. 

Agnes.     Heart   hold.     Why   knock'st   about   my 

body  so? 

Lighter  footfalls;    and  softer  be  my  step. 
Ah  what!   my  soul  dost  thou  plead  to  return? 
And  do  I  tread  in  on  death's  sleeping  king? 
A  trembling  wretch  before  the  throne  of  blood? 
If  he's  a  monarch  I'm  a  monarch's  queen. 
In  rights  I'm  splendent;    in  wrong's  train  parade; 
So  no  more  will  I  kneel  but  as  of  old 
Thy  idol  of  affiance  I'll  oppose. 
Said,   "  My  slave  toiling  in  my  wonders'   world." 
Said  I,  "  You  romance."     Said  he,  "  Dear,  you  lie." 
Said  I,   "  Sir,  your  assertions  tickle  me." 
Quoth  he,  "  And  my  devotion  pleases  me." 
A  paper.     'Tis  in  his  hand!     First  to  kiss. 

[Picks  up  paper;    reads. 


70  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

With  a  hate  as  fierce  as  flesh  I  hate 
Agnes  thee  and  thy  polluted  freight; 
Brittle  be  my  blood,  my  lids  in  grip, 
Nance,  fore  thou  across  my  vision  trip! 

0  breath  dissolve.     O  thought  be  gone.     O  ye 
Frowning  followers  of  that  nether  depth, 

Ye  fretful  shades  of  fireful  hell  —  come,  come.  — 
Swiftly  with  me  in  my  impotence,  burn 
Out  of  me  all  conceit  of  him  for  whom 

1  die!     Do  not  I  die?     Can  I  not  die? 

O  black  passion  give  me  the  drink  of  death! 

O  ye  twisted  fires  quick  entangle  me! 

Ye  demons  dark  of  endless  chaos  come 

And  take  me  to  thy  depths  oblivion; 

O  grave  come  quick  and  take  my  empty  corpse !  — 

Standing  on  brink  of  my  eternity, 

Beating  obliquely  against  my  naked  soul, 

The  stress  of  wind  and  hail  of  my  dismay, 

In  fury  surging  to  my  overthrow,  — 

Below  the  pit  of  dread  mortality, 

In  silent  night's  impenetrable  gloom, 

Why  dost  thou  not,  O  my  offended  sprite, 

Pitch  adown  into  peace  and  thy  release, 

And  let  the  wraithe  of  my  poor  fate  expire! 

Can  I  not  die?     Do  I  not  die?     Hark,  hark! 

[Writes.      Exit. 
Enter  GARRETT. 
Gar.     Agnes'  voice,  heels  methought.     Eyes  are 

liars. 

Like  a  ghost  she  followeth.     My  senses! 
If  I  see  red  leaf  she  had  redder  lips; 
Blue  flowers,  red  flowers,  white  flowers  all 
Remind  —  Poor  Nero.     How  oft  the  rosied 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  71 

Occasion  must  have  dragged  thee  to  thy  trough 
Of  blood;   or  in  thy  walks  but  a  pansy 
Careless  grown  must  have  called  thy  thoughts  to 
earth.  [Picks  up  paper;  reads. 

Once  love  in  bliss  and  ring; 
Now  scorn  in  hiss  and  sting. 

I  am  after  thee  thou  elusive  flea.         [Sounds  horn. 

Huddling  in  thy  narrowing  ambit  trapped 

In  a  trice.  —  Oho  Olt !     Ben !     Where  art  thou ! 

[Exit. 

SCENE  IV.     In  Almont's  garden.     Enter 

GARRETT. 

Gar.     Aye,  e'en  may  his  shades  of  generation 
Unto  men  shoot  shafts  to  split  the  moon. 
Why  it  is  seen  gimcracks  borne  and  adored 
Though  he  be  brainless,  weak  and  delicate, 
Because  he  happed  to  be  of  noble  birth. 
Or  a  little  fellow,  God  assisting, 
Wrought  a  little  wonder,  on  the  instant 
Popularity  becomes  his  very 
Hatchet-man  from  whom  he  leaps  in  ordeal 
Of  adulations,  feasts,  receiving  men's 
Esteem;    till  the  issue  he  is  dizzy. 
O  world,  thou  bubble  of  idolatry ! 
Depraved  time,  O  degenerate  age! 
When  dignity  hangs  on  idiocy; 
Virgin's  strut,  angling  to  sinful  banter; 
Power's  drunk,  orders  shoulder  with  the  bold ; 
Noble  sembles  base,  beauty  barters  grace; 
And  drear  fidelity  forsakes  its  trust; 
All  because  valiant,  tyrant  or  a  thief; 


72  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Or,  as  I  say,  because  his  father  was. 

O  souls  of  men  what  noise,  what  clamor,  what 

Lack  of  circumspection ;  alas,  what  heat, 

What  sin,  what  gross  pushing  for  position, 

When  thou  doth  swarm  to  ape  at  passing  fame. 

But  woe  wild  fault  once  they  turn  honor's  hounds ! 

Ah,  how  oft  my  dreams  discover  phantom 

Of  my  dishonorable  orphanage! 

For  what  of  life's  worse  —  hush,  words  are  adders, 

And  guilt  in  herring  hundreds  shimmers  in 

My  shame.     Guilt  ?     Aye,  and  men  step  back  three 

feet. 

Can  men  be  my  judge?     These  base  mortals  rule 
On  my  right  of  life?     Am  I  but  flourish 
Of  a  sin?     Can  irregularity 
Before  my  birth  chase  me  through  existence? 
Are  there  some  circumstances  prodigies, 
Wrought  so  ungracious  in  their  origin, 
As  to  o'erleap  consistency?     Tush,  tush. 
In  this  universal  scheme  who  may  blame 
Result  nor  know  it  be  above  them  —  who 
Contumely  on  a  consequence  a  cause 
They  can  not  criticize?     Our  of  wedlock  got, 
Admit  I  be  product  infamy  how 
Can  that  poesy  transmit  ?     But  fools  and 
Fatalists  linger  in  dualities 
Congenital.     Out  of  wedlock  got  I'm  but 
Breach  of  custom,  less  etiquette,  less  law ; 
And  law  but  lines  on  time,  habit  harnessed. 
I  am  a  man,  yea  the  absolute  rose 
Of  beauty,  and  never  may  be  beauty 
Be  oblique  to  ends  of  ordination. 
And  so  if  men  are  to  be  weighed  by  birth 
Why  then  it  is  at  birth  they  should  be  weighed. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  73 

Enter  OLT  and  BEN. 
To  your  stations.     If  you  see  her  trail  her. 
If  in  doubt  just  call  her  name  Agnes  Nance. 
Do  thou  go  and  anon  I'll  rejoin  thee.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  CHAS.  ALMONT. 
Chas.     Ah,  happy  is  the  sleep  of  poverty 
Pious  in't;    as  if  his  mother's  spirit 
Sate  by  the  bed  of  his  unruffled  soul; 
Or  scabby  crown  the  vermin  errant  o'er 
The  bolster  scraping  in  contentment  on, 
Than  is  that  head  in  dread  adversity 
Come  stealing  in  tiptoeing  in  his  snores. 
Ah  what  unrest,  unrest  doth  keep  the  breast 
Of  the  all  worldly  too  ambitious  soul; 
What  earthly  tiredness  doth  occupy 
The   earthly    tired,    striving,    grasping   knave. 
Since  childhood  have  I  lived  but  for  to  cheat, 
To  cover  lest  loss  sweat  through  inducement  ; 
How  like  a  lynx  I've  watched  my  fellow  men 
For  of  their  vain  possessions  to  disseize. 
What  barren,  hapless,  yea  what  sleepless  years 
Have  gone  ever  wrangling  with  base  fortune. 
Years  dear  life  hath  wrung  for  a  gainless  gold, 
O  now,  behold  me  watching  reunion 
With  my  blind  ideals  running  in  so 
Farcical;    and  life's  best  heart  assailing 
To  escalade  but  attainments  empty. 
Now  there's  Verness,  that  glittering  disgrace; 
For  shall  I  consent  my  Marion's  sale 
To  this  wondrous  wretch  and  his  vile  seizen? 
Where  love  of  it  don't  enter  it  at  all, 
And  her  single  sin  is  hatred  for  him. 
Shall  I  deliver  slave  unto  his  lust? 


74  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Just  give  this  girl  to  his  unholy  clutch? 
Ye  cheerless  years,  imbittered  memories, 
Ye  my  store  of  inward  grievings  are  ye 
In  this  to  be  augmented  in  thy  store? 
Were  Carroll  out  it  were  out  of  muddle; 
This   most   bashful    gatch   and   awkward    lover. 
Were  but  Carroll  dead.     Were  but  this  Carroll  out. 
Enter  VERNESS. 

Ver.     She's  as  the  mountain's  peak  in  cold  and 

snow, 

The  which  we  fain  would  climb  in  the  azure's 
Clear  sunshine,   increasing  and  coruscant, 
So  insuperable  and  alluring, 
When  from  simple  matter  spring  to  issue 
Matrimony  am  tumbled  to  defeat 
And  torn  on  jutments  of  discouragement. 

Chas.     Thou'rt    bleeding    on    the    precipice    of 
strife. 

Ver.     My  burning  words  I've  whispered  to  her 

soul, 

Whereat  she  looks  abstractly  at  my  place, 
Nor  doth  she  seem  to  see  me  yet  at  all. 

Chas.     Plays  with  vacancy  when  thy  suit  most 
smokes. 

Ver.     Pauses,  blushes,  in  confusion  upstarts. 

Chas.     Never  boggles  at  Carroll's  swainish  ways. 

Ver.     She's  a  fire  in  depths  of  my  loving  heart. 

Chas.     Thy  heart  is  the  disgraceful  part  of  thee. 

Ver.     My  love's  a  sleepless  passion  in  my  heart. 

Chas.     Thy  heart  is  the  craziest  part  of  thee. 

Ver.     Damn  thee,  I  wish  I  ne'er  had  done  with 
thee. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  75 

Chas.     If  wishes  were  fishes  and  men  were  wise 
They'd  fished  for  their  wishes  when  they  had  time. 

Ver.     How    apt   art   thou   now    in    ridicule, 
Where  once  thou  wert  whet,  intent  to  tally. 

Chas.     Thou  unnatural  abomination; 
Thou  hissing,  sibilant,   soulless  serpent; 
Thou  talking,   nothing,   merry  tingling  brass; 
Yea  thou  piece  of  incest,  thou  braying  ass; 
I  am  ashamed  ever  I  did  meet  thee. 

Ver.     I    impoverished    more    than    shamed    for 

thee. 
Tis  I  bear  expense  of  this  acquaintance. 

Chas.     Art   thou    not    made   acquaint    with    my 

sister ; 

My  own  sweet  sister,  orphan,  only  tie; 
And  who  loves  thee  with  such  great  devotion? 

Ver.     In  your  soul  you  call  yourself  a  liar; 
In  your  soul  you  know  that  she  loves  me  not. 

Chas.     You'll  listen  till  I  tell  thee  what  she  said. 
It  was  in  the  garden  I  overheard  her, 
As  she  communed  aloud  quite  unto  herself. 
You  will  listen  until  the  while  I  quote 
The  precious  words  stole  from  her  perfect  lips. 
"  Summer's  murmur  in  my  cheek  he  is  near ; 
My  blood  a  quick'ning  rill  Verness  is  near. 
Carroll,  the  stolid  moon;    yet  is  the  clown 
As  tides  attracts  controller  o'  my  soul." 

Ver.     And  said  she —  ? 

Chas.  Cut  my  tongue  out  if  she  didn't. 

Shalt  let  this  jade  outrun  thee  for  the  prize? 
Shall  this  cur  take  the  bone  away  from  thee? 
Or  like  the  star  that  shines  beside  the  moon, 


76  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Shall  thy  dear  light  be  dimmed  in  his  conceit? 

But  in  his  extinction  art  thou  distinct; 

Just  but  rip  his  heart  Marion's  thou  art 

Alone  in  the  court  of  her  rare  beauty. 

Ah,  think,  the  orbit  of  those  arms  whose  touch 

Will  trickle  in  thy  toe;   think,  free  traffic 

In  those  lips  like  fruit  voluptuous  in 

Eden  of  temptation. 

Re-enter  GARRETT  in  influence  of  drink. 
Gar,  Saints  in  session. 

Ah  ho,  Almont  there's  blood  upon  thy  cuff. 
Look  at  him  look.     He  knows  it  should  be  there. 
Trickster !  —  Not  thee ;    I'm  whistling  for  my  dog. 

[To  CHAS. 
Treacher!  —  Not  thee;    I'm  calling  for  my  dog. 

[To  CHAS. 
Traitor!  —  Dost  think  I'd  have  thee  for  a  dog? 

[To  CHAS. 
Liar !  —  I   forgot ;    his  name's  same  as  thee. 

[To  CHAS. 
Thief !  —  Curse  him,  I  think  I'll  give  dog  to  thee.  - 

[To  CHAS. 

Fly  little  wren  for  the  serpent  is  near ;        [To  VER. 
Serpent  is  singing  to  catch  thee,  my  dear: 
Fly  away  little  bird  while  yet  you  can; 
Haste  to  make  speed  you  small  bit  of  a  man. 
Verness,  go  thou  home  and  say  thy  prayers; 
Put  his  proposition  in  thy  pocket 
And  when  thou  art  home  put  figures  to't. 
Chas.     Come,  Verness,  let  us  walk  a  while. 

[Exeunt  VER.  and  CHAS. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  77 

Gar.  They're  gone. 

Ah,  Verness,  how  you  trifle  with  your  God, 
When  you  linger  to  trifle  with  that  man.         [Exit. 

Enter  AGNES  NANCE  and  ROYAL  CARROLL. 

Roy.     I  have  travelled  all  the  night. 

Agnes.  So  have  I. 

But  tell  is  Marion  thy  purpose  here? 

Roy.     Why  Agnes,  thou  hast  turned  the  secret 
round. 

Agnes.     Since  thou  art  a  lover  I  wish  thee  luck. 

Roy.     I  am  fearful  - 

Agnes.  No,  no,  no;    thou  wilt  win. 

For  where  is  the  girl  that  could  withstand  thee. 
But  pray,  Royal,  do  not  be  conceited; 
For  conceit,   dear,   we  know  will  spoil  a  king. 
Let   not  thy  will  parade  before  her  mind; 
Or  yet  cringe  fore  the  creature  of  her  whims. 
Neither  try  hop  in  favor  down  her  throat, 
Nor  yet  again  my  dear  treat  at  arms-end. 
Set  thy  nobility  against  her  beauty; 
In  affection  ardent  not  improper; 
Each  impulse  challenge ;   kiss  and  cool  again.  - 
But  I  must  haste.     Friend  I  shall  watch  thy  love. 
Bid  me  success  as  I  bid  thee  for  I 
Unto  my  heart  to-morrow!     I  must  go. 
And  I  must  humbly  take  my  leave  of  thee. 
Adieu. 

Roy.     And  may  joy  attend  thee,  Agnes. 

[Exeunt  differently. 

Re-enter  CHAS.  ALMONT  and  VERNESS. 
Ver.     He  speaks  of  thee  as  if  thou  wert  a  fiend. 


78  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Chas.     And  of  thee  as  if  thou  wert  a  ninny; 
And  talks  as  if  he  knew  he  stood  on  facts. 

Re-enter  GARRETT. 

Gar.     Part,  part,  part  with  his  luckless  company, 
Or  Verness  thou  wilt  to  hell  in  jig  time. 
He  is  more  relentless  than  the  spider; 
Yes,  less  merciful  than  the  weasel. 
Beware,   beware   cavilling   villainy, 
His  treacherous  respectability. 

Re-enter  ROYAL  CARROLL,   MARION 
ALMONT. 

Roy.     Nothing  in  glory  of  the  spreading  dawn, 
Compares   with  crimson  of  thy  cheek  this  morn. 

Gar.     Rot ! 

Roy.         Garrett ! 

Gar.  Restrain  thy  'feminate  tongue. 

Roy.     Doth  my   voice   offend   I   crave  thy  dul- 
gence. 

Gar.     Thou  lone-working  destroyer  of  virgins. 

Roy.     Why  art  not  even  decent  greeting  me? 

Gar.     Thou  self  seeking,  most  stinking  wretch, 
stand  back. 

Roy.     Dost  think  to  quell  me  with  such  senti 
ment? 

Gar.     Back,   back,   back,   back  or  callow   youth 
of   fall! 

Roy.     Yea,    when    Carroll's    blood    in    his    feet 

revolts 
And  then  and  do  thou  call  Carroll  coward. 

Gar.     Then  you  must  fight. 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  79 

Roy.  And  then  if  fight  we  must. 

[Fight. 

Gar.     My  dear  I  shall  have  ta'en  thy  shoon  off 
soon. 

Mar.     Carroll,  stop! 

Chas.  Play  well,  play  well,  gentlemen. 

Gar.     See  him.     What  a  hero  for  a  picture.  - 
Murdered !    watch !    see ! 

Roy.  Dost  thou  wish  to  desist? 

Gar.     Pass  neath  my  arm  and  nip  the  viper  there. 
Almont,  Almont!     He'll  stab  me  i'  the  back! 

Roy.     Almont,  Almont,  step  from  behind  him, 
do. 

Chas.     I  will;    aye,  most  assuredly,  I  will. 

Gar.     Murderer  cross  ever  thou  before  me. 
Attempt  ere  to  get  the  windward  of  me 
Thou  shalt  live  no  longer  —  Come  on,  Carroll ; 
My  foeman,  come,  we'll  try  to  it  again.        [Fight. 
Thy  master  taught  thee  was  too  nice  with  thee.  - 
Couldst  thou  outlive  this  fight  wouldst  change  thy 

style.  — 
Perhaps  his  meals  were  in't  not  to  hurt  thee.  - 

Mar.     Stop!     I  fling  me!     I  die  between  your 
swords ! 

Chas.     Marion,  I  hold  thee!     I  implore  thee! 
Let    them    fight  —  let    them    die  —  let    them    be 
damned. 

Gar.     Drop  not  thine  eyes  where  next  intends 
to  hit.  — 

Mar.     Garrett!     Carroll!     Stop!     My  heart  is 
breaking ! 


80  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Chas.     Marion,  they  don't  hear  or  see  a  thing. 
Ah,  Verness,  what  is  the  anchor  with  thee? 
Why  don't  you  run  in  and  stab  both  of  them? 

Gar.     We'll  all  be   here   to-night   to   greet   thy 

ghost ; 
We  shall  all  be  here  to  shake  hands  with  thee. 

Re-enter  AGNES  NANCE,  Garrett's  sword  falls 
from  his  hand. 

Agnes.     Searching  the  world  with  eye  malevo 
lent; 

Breathing  thy  bane  in  community's  peace. 
What  tale  in  the  story  of  his  life 
Justifies  to  thy  arm  this  bloody  part? 
What  is  that  great  extreme  calls  for  his  death, 
And  thou  shouldst  lay  his  clod  upon  the  sod  ? 
Gar.     Woman,  explain  thy  name.     I  know  thee 

not. 
Agnes.     I  am  she  makes  thee  fling  thy  sword 

from  thee. 

Gar.     Deny  not  thy  name.   Tell  me  who  thou  art. 
Agnes.     I'm    the    watchword    of    thy    unhappy 

heart. 

Gar.     And  yet  withal  thou  wilt  not  tell  thy  name. 
Agnes.     I'm  remorse  in  thy  memory  for  aye. 
Gar.     Explain  — 

Agnes.  And  dost  thou  deny  me,  Garrett? 

Mar.     Agnes  dear,  pray  and  do  thou  come  with 

us. 

Chas.     We  sympathize  in  death  of  your  mother. 
Gar.     Be  still,  or  I  will  wash  thy  face  in  blood. 
Where's  my  sword ! 


ACT  III,  SCENE  IV.  81 

Agnes.         Garrett  —  sticking  in  my  heart. 

[Exeunt  ROY,  MAR.   and  AGNES. 

Ver.     She's  sad-hearted  for  her  mother. 

Gar.  Mother ; 

All  made  from  papers,  powders,  paints  and  pads. 
How  well  I  remember  too,  her  father, 
Effete,  unfaithful;    those  two  dutiful  hairs 
Struggling  cross  his  glassy  pate. 

Ver.     Hip  and  lip  she  is  queen  of  all  I've  seen. 

Gar.     I  feel  as  if  my  soul  had  ta'en  its  flight, 
And  I  were  left  empty  cavern  of  death. 
I  feel  as  if  my  soul  had  slipped  from  me. 
Agnes!     Agnes!     Agnes!     holloo  Agnes! 
Come  back,  for  I  was  drunk,  am  sober  now.  - 
Agnes  Nance;    from  the  turret  of  my  heart 
That  name  like  the  chimes  bursting  on  the  chill, 
Dark  autumnal  evening  of  my  being.  — 
Go!   or  nor  wait  or  hesitate;   but  go! 

[To  CHAS.,  VER..  Sounds  horn. 

Chas.     Kindly  bemind  this  garden  is  my  own. 
Enter  OLT  and  BEN. 

Gar.     Olt,  if  these  fellows  go  from  here  not  now, 
Do  thou  cut  them  to  their  deaths  without  thought! 

Ver.     Let  us  leave  them  Charles. 

Chas.  'Twill  give  them  more  room. 

[Exeunt  VER.  and  CHAS. 

Gar.     Ben,  do  thou  ride  northwest  to  Charleny; 
Olt,  do  thou  ride  southwest  to  the  Grass  Head ; 
Then  both  converge  and  meet  me  at  Stonehouse. 
For  this  woman  whom  we  seek  has  been  here; 
Though  afoot  was  dressed  in  riding  habit, 


82  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

And  so,  therefore,  she  may  be  riding  now. 
Remember  she  before  eluded  thee. 
So  now,  then,  let  us  forward. 

Olt.  Ay. 

Ben.  Ay,  ay.  [Exeunt. 


ACT   IV. 
SCENE  I. 

Enter  oppositely,  riding,  MARY  CARROLL,  two 
attendants,  and  ROYAL  CARROLL. 

Mary.     Brother!      Brother!      Thou   dost   drink 

eye  of  life! 

Come  near  that  I  may  feel  and  know  'tis  thee! 
Roy.     Sister,  thou  dost  flush  and  fuss  like  the 

lass 
Had  her  beau  concealed  beneath  the  sofa. 

Mary.     Sought  thee  wide,   places  ceasing  hope 

ceasing ; 

Fears  like  ivy  twined  my  desperate  soul. 
Roy.     Don't  you  pity  her  in  her  dilemna? 
Mary.     We  feared  thy  mortal  anger  and  wert 

bled 
In  some  encounter. 

Roy.  Sister  not  a  drop. 

Scratched  by  the  brush,  sister,  but  nothing  more. 
Mary.     But  why  not  tell  where  thou  went  ?    Tell 

what  prompt 
Thy  travels  in  this  queachy  thicket  met  ? 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  I.  83 

Roy.     On  a  run,  jumped  the  gully,  rest  go  round. 

Mary.     On  hunt  went  held  thee  dead  in  accident. 
Who  follow  thee? 

Roy.     Why  there  is  one,  Verness ; 
And  then  again  there's  Almont ;  — 

Mary.  Escape  him. 

Roy.     Surely  seems  — 

Mary.  Hist,  'tis  but  a  way  he  has. 

ist  Attend.     Robbers!  [Exeunt  Attendants. 

Mary.  Royal,  Royal,  where  will  we  fly ! 

Ride  in  Band  of  Robbers. 

ist  Rob.     Careful  of  her  lady! 

2nd  Rob.  Hello,  rich  one. 

Mary.     Buzzards ! 

jrd  Rob.          That's  what  I  say. 

^th  Rob.  That's  what  I  say. 

Mary.     What  seek  ye? 

jrd  Rob.  Animals  and  valu'bles. 

4th  Rob.     When  we're  gone  it  is  that  in  which 
you're  loss. 

Roy.     Give  me  my  arm  free,  I'll  take  any  three! 

$th  Rob.     Come  here  and  help  me  cut  this  fel 
low's  throat. 

Enter  GARRETT. 

Gar.     Strike  any  man  of  mine  a  blow,  he  dies! 
Carroll!     Carroll!     In  thy  soul  cool  thy  sword. 
Men,  of  any  of  their  things  thou  shalt  not. 
Remember  men  of  thy  allegiance  sworn; 
Remember  oath  of  thy  obedience; 
Thy  silence  pledged  in  face  of  all  commands. 


84  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Men  of  their  things  thou  shalt  not.     We'll  forward. 
For  I'll  reward  thee  with  what  here  hast  lost. 
Every  man  to  his  horse  and,  forward! 

[Exeunt   Band. 

Woman,  I  remember  thee.     Far,  down  and 
Deep  in  a  hole  I  buried  him.  {Exit. 

Mary.  He's  gone. 

Know  him? 

Roy.     As  the  humming-bird  by  its  hum. 
But  says  he  knoweth  thee? 

Mary.  I   fed  him  once. 

He  came  to  our  door  once  in  a  starving  state, 
And  begged  of  us  food  for  his  horse  and  man. 
Re-enter  Two  Attendants. 

Roy.     Here  sister  are  back  thy  two  attendants. 

Mary.     Ye  vermin,   for  the  sake  of  your  small 

lives, 

Did  you  put  all  that  hurry  in  your  haste? 
To-morrow  to  the  field,  no  more  to  wait 
On  me.  -  -  I  must  go ;   I  hear  them  coming. 
Come  with  me. 

Roy.  At  even-tide  I'm  after. 

Mary.     Well  then,  will  my  attendants  follow  me. 
[Exeunt  MARY  and  Attends. 

Enter  riding,  CHARLES,   MARION  and 

VERNESS. 

Enter  oppositely,  a  GYPSY  on  an  ass. 
Gypsy.     With  the  stars  I'm  in  conference; 
With  wise  maids  I'm  in  preference. 
Once  huswife  of  the  busy  sky, 
Baked  thy  future  in  fortune's  pie. 
Chas.     Gypsy,  ope  moldy  coffer  of  decrees. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  I.  85 

Gypsy.     O bolus  or  coin  round  the  key; 

True,  e'en  the  gods  wait  on  a  fee. 

Chas.     Here  are  coins  a  few,  but  abuse  nor  spot 

[Gives  Gypsy  money. 
Of  the  lily  of  her  intellect.     Ye 
Shameless  hags  build  in  the  blood  the  embers 
Of  obscenity;    in  concentration 
Scandaling  turrets  peaceful  purity. 

Gypsy.     Sir,  thy  money's  not  enough  in; 
Sir,  I  sivear  thou  art  a  ruffian. 
I  can  prove  it  by  this  girl's  doom; 
And  by  thy  father  in  his  tomb. 

Chas.     I  pay  thee  not  to  hear  my  fortune  told ; 
[Gives  Gypsy  more  money. 
I  pay  thee  that  this  girl  may  hear  her  own. 

Gypsy.     Black  hands  lower  thee  to  thy  grave; 

Girl,  and  greed  of  a  murd'rous  knave. 

Thy  horrid  fate  stalks  behind  thee; 

Thou  canst  erase  nor  from  it  flee. 

Pure  as  snow,  spotless  as  the  dove; 

Thou  art  sold  to  unhallowed  love. 
Mar.     Methinks  thou  art  most  sad  and  inexact. 

Gypsy.     Ah,  wench,  I  have  read  the  papers; 
Just  as  written  by  these  traitors. 
There  are  contained  within  this  crew; 
Two  names  whose  living  thou  shalt  rue. 
'Tis  Charles  hath  sold  thee  to  thy  shame; 
Verness  that  bought  thee  for  the  same. 
Ah,  child,  I've  seen  the  money  go; 
And  talk  therefore  only  what  I  know. 

[Exit. 


86  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Roy.     I  believe. 

Mar.  And  I  grieve  that  you  believe. 

Roy.     And  tell  me  Marion  dost  love  me  yet; 
No  reconsideration  in  regret? 

Mar.     I  love  thee  so  to  tell  I  know  not  how. 

7^03;.     Yet  I  believe. 

Mar.  I  grieve  that  you  believe. 

Roy.     Methinks  that  I  should  kill  them  on  the 

spot; 

And  heaven  sure  would  acquit  me  of  the  deed.  - 
I  must  go  at  once. 

Mar.  We  shall  go  at  once. 

Roy.     My  will  is  lightning,  my  sword  is  sinning; 
I  fear  travelling  swiftness  of  my  arm. 
Yes  we  must  go.  —  No,  stand  back  Marion 
Till  I  cleave  the  villains  to  the  earth! 

Mar.     Ah,  in  blossom's  shower  oft  whole  flow 
ers  fall. 

Be  not  in  the  way  of  wind  lest  with  thy  words 
Misfortune   fall.     To  covert   love   lest  swept 
By  passion.     Don't  insist  and  now  resist. 

Roy.     Like  a  dog  I  am  frothing  at  the  mouth; 
And  my  angry  blood  doth  move  me  like  a  beast ! 

Mar.     Come    with    me    I    plead!     'tis    Marion 
pleads ! 

Chas.     What  deep  apology  thou  shalt  owe  me, 
When  a  cooler  moment  comes  upon  thee! 
For  I  would  put  this  hand  into  the  fire, 
Yea  and  pull  it  out  from  there  a  cinder, 
Carroll,  fore  one  tittle  I  would  harm  thee; 
Or  this  girl  I  would  do  an  injury. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  II.  87 

Mar.     Royal,  come. 

Roy.  Thou  hast  said't,  Marion  yes. 

[Exeunt  MAR  and  ROY. 

Chas.     Who'll  deny  ghosts  do  brood  abroad  at 

night ; 

That  the  spirits  of  men  rise  from  the  graves ; 
That  souls  of  the  corpse  in  judgment  of  death, 
Do  mope  upon  earth  or  flit  through  the  air; 
When  a  witch  accursed  with  a  wooden  voice; 
A  withered  hag  with  voice  like  a  coffin; 
A  little  she-devil  built  of  our  plans ; 
Who  divines  our  present,  explodes  our  past ; 
Breathes  in  our  presence  our  terrible  thoughts; 
Puts  terror  before  us  in  broad  daylight ; 
Comes  in  and  goes  out  like  shade  of  the  damned; 
And  leaves  us  dear  shaking  for  mercy  of  God ! 
Verness,  we  pursue  false  ends ;   we  mistake.  - 
And,  Conrad,  what  was  that  she  said  of  thee?- 

[  Aside. 

Verness,  please  an'  do  not  look  so  stupid. 
Come  Verness,  we'll  find  some  cheer  out  of  here. 

Ver.     Give  me  back  my  payments - 

Chas.  Do  come,  Verness; 

Do,   for  we  must  find  some  cheer  out  of  here. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     Cabin  in  the  Mountains  about  Almont 
Manor.     Lieutenant  and  Band  of  Robbers. 

ist  Rob.     But  unhitch  our  ignorance   from  the 

race. 
Lieut.     The  race!    The  race?    Ah,  call  it  not  by 

that, 


EDWARD   GARRETT. 

For  name  as  such  is  less  the  name  so  much 

As  to  rob  wonders  of  this  masterpiece; 

And  despoil  a  spectacle  sublime. 

Why  I  have  seen  scabby  dogs  to  race,  turn 

Bite  a  flea  bedding  in  their  stringy  tails 

And  that  was  named  race.     But  this  grand  thing 

In  grandeur's  middle  made  all  other  sports 

As  seeming  vices.     Elysium's  gaydom; 

The  women  married  to  all  brightsomeness 

Seemed  crowded  tulips  in  this  glorious 

Patch  of  happiness;    nodding  to  the  winds 

Of  their  most  nervous,  anxious  ecstasy. 

But  the  race !     Lank  and  lean  were  made  to  stretch  ; 

Nimble  hounds  in  ebullient  eagerness 

They  looked,  those  colossal  dogs  of  purpose. 

They  are  bunched  above  the  line  and  all  trained 

And  tempered  to  the  time.     They  dance  and  plunge 

And  make  false  starts,  come  back  again.     They're 

off! 

The  dust!    the  rush!  to  hear  their  iron  march! 
Their  smallest  jockeys  crouching  low  cowards 
To  ev'ry  inch  of  wind ;   and  arms  encircling 
Their  steeled  steeds  as  if  fondling  speed 
From  in  their  throats.     The  ground's  ablaze !     They 

go, 

They're  gone!    furious  speed  ensconsed  between 
Their  legs  prompts  them  on !     Favorite's 
In  the  rear  and  seems  but  there  to  see  it; 
Alpha's  running  third,  Princess  is  nowhere. 
Quarter:    Favorite's  fourth,  Princess  is  third; 
Alpha  back.     They're  all  working  on  their  job, 
And  beating  it  for  a  place.     Like  juggler's 
Changes  and  transposition  is  complete. 
Half :   Favorite  has  a  nose  and  Princess  is  third ; 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  II.  89 

Money  horse  takes  a  drink  and  Alpha's  fifth. 
They  come !  they  come !  ah,  like  a  whirlwind  mad  ! 
Fav'rite  has  a  length,  Princess  comes  from  place; 
Alpha  lifts,  flies  to  with  Princess  even; 
They're  head  and  head  and  neck  at  twenty  yards ; 
The  same  at  ten.     Alpha  stumbles;    few  flaps 
Of  fish  out  of  fathoms  and  he  is  done. 
What  think  you  then? 

ist  Rob.  Tell. 

Lieut.  False-hearted  Fav'rite  — 

Quit!    and  Princess  won  the  race. 

2tid  Rob.  Long  race. 

Hal.     We  were  there  and  saw  ev'ry  ace  of  race. 

3rd  Rob.     It   seems  to  me  that  you  like  horse 


races. 


4th  Rob.     Seems   me  you   like   to   see   feats   of 
horses. 

Enter  GARRETT. 

Lieut.     And  where  wert  thou,  dear  Hal? 

Hal.  Ah,  me  ; 

To  church,  despite  proverb  prayed  for  riches. 
See  this  packet  product  of  a  prayer.        [Holds  forth. 
For  whiles  he  served  up  the  Prodigal  Son, 
On  delinquent  I  in  my  attentive 
Corner  aimed  his  eye,  I  wept,  went  with  him. 
He  was  a  very  good  fellow  but  simple; 
Though  nothing  lax  yet  a  little  slack; 
For  showed  me  where  he  kept  his  revenue. 

Gar.     Thou  unequalled,  insinuating  thief.    [Aside. 

Lieut.     And  tell  me  where  wert  thou? 

4th  Rob.  I  was  fishing. 


90  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Lieut.     You  can't  fish. 

4th  Rob.  Who  says  I  can't  ? 

Lieut.  Where's  your  fish? 

Hal.     George  and  I  know  a  farmer  forty  miles 
From  here  who  keeps  a  cradle  full  of  eels. 
These  are  all  refined,  educated  eels. 
He  gets  them  young  and  trains  them  day  by  day, 
Till  by  and  by  they  come  feed  right  from  his  hand. 
When  they  are  grown  he  takes  them  to  the  shore, 
At  the   whereat   he  teaches  them  to  dive, 
Whereto,  and  to  catch  other  fish  for  him. 
Isn't  that  so,  George? 

Geo.  That's  right. 

Hal.  You're  a  liar. 

Gar.     Yes,  tell  me  where  were  you? 

4th  Rob.  I  don't  know. 

Gar.     You  don't  know?     Then  you  must  been 
drunk. 

4th  Rob.  I  was. 

Gar.     Tell  me  where's  your  horse? 

4th  Rob.  Gone;   methinks  he's  lost. 

Gar.     Aye,  met  a  rustic  with  forked  stick  driving 
Angles  in  a  cow;    and  more  in  detail, 
Induced  and  duped  and  diced  thee  out  of  it. 
Truth   should   save   thy   neck;     I've   rebought   thy 

horse. 
But  spank  me  if  truth  saves  thy  neck  again. 

Lieut.     Just  while  I'm  at  it  tell  me  where  were 
you? 

5th  Rob.     I  met  a  maid  in  cambric;  —  I'm  no 
poet; 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  II.  91 

Line  at  your  disposal,  supply  the  rhyme. 

Hal.     What's  Davy  grub? 

[Referring  to  Davy  without. 

6th  Rob.  I've  discovered  Croesus. 

$rd  Rob.     We  must  see  into  his  case  by  — 

Lieut.  We  wont  - 

Not  here,  nor  now,  nor  for  fun  speak  the  Name. 

ist  Rob.     Zounds,  hurrah! 

All.  Hurrah ! 

^rd  Rob.  Hurrah  for  - 

Lieut.  Mind  you. 

Gar.     Who  carries  this  small  point  wins  in  it  all. 

[Aside. 

Lieut.     Persist  in  pertinence,  'tis  mutiny. 
Damn  thee,  you  will  not  defy  me,  or  I 
Will  have  the  tongue,  the  nails  and  life  of  thee! 

Hal.     Where  away  lies  this  gentleman  of  your 
Impatience  ? 

6th  Rob.     In  hut  on  the  river  front ; 
A  hungry  guard  of  wonderful  bloodhounds. 

fth  Rob.     Which    reminds    me,    five  —  no,    'tis 
more,  'tis  six  — 

Hal  Tis  six. 

6th  Rob.  Crack  that  craven's  bump  of 

membrance. 

Thou  hoary,  gory  lecher  speak  I'll  stab! 
Still  now,  but  like  a  blister  he'll  refill. 

Enter  DAVY  bearing  a  flagon. 

Hal.     Davy,  what  hast  thou  there? 

Davy.  A  sum  of  — 

Hal.  What? 


92  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Davy.     Pray    and    do    please    let    me    see    your 
tongue. 

Hal.  Why? 

Davy.     Methinks  show  symptoms  curious. 

Hal.  What's  it? 

Davy.     Dew  and  roots,  mixture  midnight,  words 

and  signs. 

Dear   believe   me    friend   that   who   unduly 
Drinks  these  elements  in  enmity,   this 
Fighting  flagon  so  clear  and  innocent, 
Sups   but   water  delicious,   different, 
Until  —  well,  he'll  split  himself  in  madness. 

6th  Rob.     Ye  fools  it  is  jabber  on   forever. 
Let  him  rot  in  squalor,  we  do  not  need 
His  money.     Men?     Nothing  but  old  women. 

Hal.     How   long  a   ride   is't   to   this   friend   of 
yours  ? 

6th  Rob.     If  we  start  now  in  two  days  at  mid 
night. 

Lieut.     I  think  all  in  all  we  had  better  go. 
Captain,    we   should   go  — 

Gar.  I  think  you  should  too. 

But  I'll  stay  behind. 

Lieut.  We  will  all  to  horse. 

Get  you  ready  all  of  you  for  the  march. 

[Exeunt  Lieut,  and  Band. 

Gar.     In  these  dark  passes  of  society, 
As  on  those  broader  plains  of  righteousness, 
Aye,  since  the  institution  of  things  first, 
It  is  men  ceaseless  after  pomp  and  things. 
From  babes  at  birth  to  ailments'  palsied  years; 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  II.  93 

From  crying,  squalling  times  in  the  cradle, 
Until  come  the  death-rattles  in  his  throat: 
From  once  they  are  souls  till  at  last  they're  free; 
Fighting  in  rigid  rules  economy, 
According  to  each  his  own  philosophy ; 
Fighting,  struggling  with  ambition's  burden, 
Yet  and  always  is  the  goal  quite  as  far. 
Everywhere  is  life  embroiled  in  strife. 
I'  the  world  to  be  exalted,  to  reign 
A  little ;    how  it  burns  in  the  hearts  of  men ! 
Some  to  be  a  king,  but  to  wear  a  crown, 
Would  quickly  lead  a  million  men  to  slaughter; 
Themselves  to  waste  in  buzz  of  assassins. 
Some  there  are  tie  their  passions  up  to  lust; 
Who  never  thought  of  crown  or  kingdoms. 
Some  spend  their  lives  chasing  false  ideals; 
The  very  butterflies  of  vagaries. 
The  zealot  with  his  streaked  forms  fanatical 
Of  urged  adoption,  whose  only  holy  wish 
To  unmoor  the  world  and  steer  it  into  bliss. 
The  whiles  some  more  sullen,  practical  men 
Wear  with  ease  the  blushing  rose  of  fortune 
All  the  time,  yet  have  no  admiration, 
Imagination  or  beauty  in  their  souls. 
And  then  there  are  these  thieves,  these  murderers, 
And  unto  whom  is  peace  oppressiveness, 
And  knife  in  one  anxiety  the  next. 
There  are  in  study  some  would  better  gauge 
Their  ignorance,   that   folks  may  call  them  wise. 
Or  away  some  where  some  silent  genius 
Plugging  for  just  to  read  his  name  in  fame. 
There  are  some  —  there  are  some  —  and  some  — 

some  ones  — 
Be  short  with  it.     Thou  art  the  bull-dog  leashed 


94  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Dead  Edward  straining  to  no  definite 

End.  —  Agnes  —  that  name  again !    and  scribbled 

When    'tis   meant   mine   own;     ending   each   dear 

thought, 

Pronounced  upon  my  lips,  or  yet  or  hushed 
Within  my  heart.     Love  her?     Love  her?     Love 

thee? 

Ho,  ho ;  it  is  thunder  in  my  bosom 
Reverberating  terrible,  and  curse 
Of  it  flashing  in  the  rolling,  rumbling 
Crags  of  consciousness !     No  contrition  is 
Redemption,  or  no  laurel  hath  power.  — 
This  fool's  brew.     I'll  quaff  his  loquacity. 

[Drinks  from  flagon. 
Enter  AGNES. 
Agnes  — 

Agnes.     Some  horror  steals  into  thy  looks; 
Thou  dost  grin  and  chatter'st  so  to  scare  me. 

Gar.     False  —  false  —  false  —  false  —  false 
statement  —  very  false. 

Agnes.     Edward ! 

Gar.  Don't  interrupt.     Thy  feet,  what  feet. 

The  farmer  —  hell,  no,  I  mean  the  painter 
Left  the  leaves  from  the  trees  thereoff,  I  say, 
Very  appropriately  for  the  scene 
'Twas  winter. 

Agnes.     Garrett  dear,  where  are  thy  thoughts? 

Gar.     Like  a  good  boy  empty  this  swill  for  your 
Mother.  —  That's  my  mother  talking  to  me. 
Thou  ask'st  me  son  why  it  is  I  love  thee? 
Because  thou  art  the  beauty  of  my  soul; 
Because  —  because  thou  art  mine  eye,  my  God ;  — 


ACT  IV,  SCENE    'II.  95 

Agnes.     Why  do  you  ramble  when  thy  love  is 
here? 

Gar.     The  heat  here  attains  to  the  oppressive.  - 
A  stubborn  son  is  worthy  of  but  stones. 
But  I'm  not  in  pale  of  any  of  that. 
Ev'n,  v'en,  ev'n  religion  can  not  reach  me. 
But  for't  Agnes,  I'd  been  thy  turtle  dove. 

Agnes.     Edward ! 

Gar.  I   see  you  are  laughing  at  me. 

You  mock  me  for  you  think  I  am  afire. 
You  know  it  is  unlucky  to  burn  bread  crumbs ; 
But  you  do  not  know  how  my  bones  doth  burn! 

Agnes     He  — 

Gar.  Ask  not  pedant  in  a  pool  qualities 

Of  leeches,  —  I  am  scorched  in  rush  of  fumes. 

Agnes.     O   Edward,   come  back,   come  back  to 

reason. 
O  Edward  Garrett,  dost  thou  not  know  me? 

Gar.     Thou  art  Agnes.     But  who  stands  beside 

thee? 
Who's  that  looks  so  curiously  at  me? 

Agnes.     I'm   Agnes,    wants   to   know    what    'tis 
afflicts  — 

Gar.     I  see  and  thou  say'st  thy  name  is  Senna? 
Spell't  backwards  till  I  see  if  thou  art  she. 
I'll  spell't.     S-E-N  — enough!     Tis  Senna. - 
My  thoughts  are  toppling  o'er  each  other  for 
An  exit.  —  Tell  me  who  art  thou  out  there  ? 
Agnes.     I  am  Agnes,  who  desires  to  know  — 
Gar.     My  lips  are  in  anguish,  my  blood's  at  war ! 
Fighting   for  a   foothold  —  my  mem'ry's  gone.  — 
Ho  'tis  hell;    those  great  bugs  are  blasphemies. 


96  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Whe!    a  virgin  —  floats  'long  —  a  song  of  vows. 
I'll  wait.     One  hand's  canary,  other  hand's 
A  snake.     She  teems  like  a  thing  of  evil. 
Escape!    Escape!    Escape!    She's  thousand  snakes! 
Agnes.     He  beckons  me.     Sir,  sir,  list  while  I 

speak,  — 

O  madness  measure  me,  in  his  senses 
Bury  me! 

Gar.     Agnes!   Agnes!   pity  me! 
Agnes.     Garrett,  Garrett,  tell  me  can  I  help  thee ! 
For  thy  predicament  my  heart  is  rent! 

Gar.     Who  is  it  opes  my  heart?     'Twas  said! 

I  heard't! 

Crow,  just  chirp  again  thou  blatant  coward, 
And  I  will  carve,  I'll  scald,  I'll  chew,  I'll  spawl!- 
Agnes.     Wherefore  has  this  frenzy  come  upon 

thee, 
Whose  voice  was  music   and   whose   tongue   was 

wise? 

Gar.     I  say  a  wasp!     I'll  pull  in  two  and  pike 
Thy  suffering  halves!     See  that  demon  there! 
O  behold  those  drear  abominations ! 
Those   souls,    those   spectres,    those    figures,    those 

shapes ! 

See  that  monster  with  those  reasonless  eyes; 
And  lashing  his  tail  of  furious  flame; 
The  which  he  seeks  entwine  me  to  my  end! 
Help!     Help!     My  men!    beat  back  that  vulture 

there ! 

Agnes.     My  love,  my  love,  it  is  but  I  am  near. 
Gar.     Ah,  thou  wouldst  corner  me  to  conquer  me. 
Fiend,  turn,  or  I  will  pitch  to  deeper  pit. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  III.  97 

Thou  seek'st  to  clutch  and  choke  me  in  thy  fist. 
Get  thee  gone,   return,  thou  burning  manner; 
Seek  thy  hole,  thou  goblin  of  damnation! 
At  last,  at  last,  I  have  thee  in  my  thrall; 

[Wrestles  AGNES. 
At  last  to  now  to  crush  thee  in  thy  spell! 

Agnes.     Garrett !   you  mangle  me !    you  strangle 
me! 

Gar.     Cunning  thing  your   startling  eyes   scare 

me  not; 

Ha,   ha;    now   where's  thy  power?     Ha!     there! 
there ! 

[Wrestles  AGNES  without;  runs  fleeing  away. 


SCENE  III.     A  trysting  place  in  the  Wood. 
CHARLES  ALMONT. 

Chas.     In  silence  of  a  father  keeps  a  crime; 
Crime,  O  father,  thy  poisoning  by  me. 
And  who  should  smell  his  belly,  suspecting 
Spill  him  in  analysis  proscribes  my 
Necessary  neck.     Must  be  re-interred 
For  I  am  fears  of  late;    deeper  hid  his 
Supper-dish.      True,    his    thread    was    cut    quite 

through ; 

Yet  however  slight  'tis  apprized  a  life, 
And  has  needs  the  devil  of  a  beaver 
Do  I  needs  sentence  on  my  sense  of  guilt.  - 
A  brother's  wrong  popping  in  these  open 
Moments;    a  blabbing  drunkard   secure   in 
Sober  bosom;    like  a  poor  relation, 
Circumstance  of  poorer  station,  appears 


98  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

To  grig  the  taspe  slave  little  luck,  — 
Kicking  himself   for  it,   second  marriage's 
Penalty  for  divorcing  memory ;  — 
Wrong,  O  brother,  thy  banishment  by  me. 
Because  of  dearth  of  him  her  death  for  him; 
Mother,  sweet  and  tender,  dying  pining. 
And  now  is  Royal  Carroll  down  to  die; 
Within  these  minutes  few  and  noble  youth 
To  fall  from  sneaking  thrust  of  fell  Verness. 
Yea  and  if  thou  stab'st  him  i'  the  back  or 
Stick  him  turned  away,  is  not  that  murder 
Of  most  foul,  malignant  kind?     Is  he  not 
Murd'rer  after  manner?     And  if  first  thrust 
Do  fail  and  I  must  finish  him,  wherein 
One  whit  more  excellent  or  less  am  I? 
We  just  kill  her  lover  to  marry  her 
To  a  lascivious  fool.     Here  comes  now 
The  heathen  to  be  my  brother-in-law. 

Enter  VERNESS. 
Health  to  thee,  and  peace  and  spirits  plenty. 

Ver.     O  Almont,  say,  I'm  weighted  with  unrest. 

Cha-s.     Health   dumps   and   spirits   sulks;   mon 
otony. 
Tis  monotony ;   but  once  felled  this  calf  — 

Ver.     No  — 

Chas.     But  when  thou  hast  felled  this  calf,  the 

vale 

Of  thy  deserted  soul  shall  take  on  cheer; 
Joy  shall  reign  in  heart  of  thy  dear  nature. 

Ver.     No;     I    will    not    do    it.     Last    night    I 
dreamt  — 

Chas.     Before  he  comes  what  wast  didst  dream? 
Go  on. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  III.  99 

Ver.     Appeared  ravishing  head  of  an  angel. 
Nearer,  nearer,  came  its  orbs  of  wisdom, 
Like  quiet  flames  of  grace,  like  tiny  lakes 
Immortal;   looking  at  me  wondrously; 
And  seemed  appealing  to  me  from  their  depths. 
Faintly  in  the  distance  bells  and  music, 
Vanished.     Then  methought  thrust  in  a  demon; 
'Twas  dight  in  dirt,  deceit  and  ignorance; 
Mouthing  at  a  crown  it  would  hand  a  sword; 
Detestable  sight  it  was  then  I  woke - 
'Twas  then  I  woke,  conjuring  it  to  go. 

CJias.     Ye  inspirations  of  Saint  Patrick !    Slush ! 
Fool,  you  talk  like  The  Wearing  of  the  Green. 
Thou  didst  eat  some  superstitious  cheese,  which 
In  thy  sleep  got  to  walking  round  in  thee. 
It   made  thee   dream.     But   dost   let   dreams   rule 

thee  ? 

Dost  ever  read  the  tealeafs  in  thy  cup? 
Hast  ever  read  the  pimples  in  thy  face? 
Tush ;   'tis  naught  but  thy  fears  and  flesh  conspired 
To  fright  thee.     For  so  it  oft  occurs  in 
Excitement's  sleep  of  cowards. 

Ver.  I  am  through. 

Chas.     Some   nights   ago   thou   hadst   a   sweaty 

smell ; 

As  thy  darting  sword  did  vie  the  lightning; 
And  thy  whole  air  like  doom  arranged  to  rain; 
Threats  in  rhythm  till  his  disease  was  hopeless; 
Lifeless  did  he  seem  me  in  the  glimpses 
Of  thy  performing  implement.     Fie!     Fie! 
Dire  in  desire  wilt  fear  be  thy  defeat? 

Ver.     My  dream  is  there;   'tis  death  to  disobey. 

Chas.     Thou  art  an  imbecile. 


100  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Ver.  It  may  be  so, 

But  still  I  mind  this  angel  of  my  sleep. 

Chas.     Are  not  these  eggs,  is  not  this  nest  all 
thine? 

Ver.     And  if  I  refuse  to  sit  what  bus'ness  thine? 

Chas.     See  her,  look  at  her  again.    Behold  where 
Peerless  parts  of  beauty  are  assembled; 
Where  soul  of  elegance  is  enthroned; 
Where  heaven  and  her  graces  are  enamored 
Of  a  creature;  —  behold,  thou  long-eared  ass, 
Those  eyes  like  stars  defying  inviting 
Love's  deciphering;   behold  those  lips  in 
Rapture's  riot  like  wanton  storming  bliss; 
Whose  talk  is  music,  and  whose  smile's  delight ; 
Whose  mind  like  dawn  fill  thy  dark  life  with  light. 
She's  wit,  wink  and  eyelash  of  perfection; 
Each  thought  in  crimson  ribbons,  lilies  dressing; 
She's  charm  and  pride  of  loveliness  sublime. 
Man,  fan  thy  fires!    be  not  so  zero  cold; 
Behold  is  youth  and  all  its  treasures  thine. 
With  foot  and  gait  like  the  fox's  pretty  trail,  — 
He  comes ;   and  I  almost  had  his  angel.         [Aside. 
He  comes;   whom  thou  didst  swear  to  finish  here. 

[To  VER.    VER.  going. 

Art  flight  in  sight  ?     But  stay  —  I  say  —  I'll  do't. 
Enter  ROYAL  CARROLL. 

Roy.     I  received  thy  "message  inviting  me 
To  attend  thee  here  and  upon  this  ground. 
What  may  thy  business  be  of  me? 

Chas.  Strike. 

[Aside  to  VER. 

Roy.     I  say  got  your  note  bidding  me  be  here. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  III.  101 

Sirs,  what  may  thy  business  be  of  me? 
Chas.     Strike,   he  cannot  parry. 

[Aside  to  VER. 
Ver.  I  am  gone. 

[Aside.     Going. 

Chas.  Stay.  [Aside. 

Roy.     Say  what  may  thy  business  be  of  me? 
Chas.     Just  let  me  think.     I  know   I   sent   for 

thee. 

Yea,  by  this  sky,  —  that  bird  adream  on  high,  — 
What  manner  bird  do  bethink  you  that?    ha? 
They  say  sea-birds  inland  forecast  a  storm. 

[Stabs  him;   CAR.  staggers;  falls. 

Not  yet ;  he  breathes.     Verness,  here  dispatch  him. 
Aha,  would  have  me  guilty  only?     Strike! 
What,  afraid  the   foulness  of  his  matter 
The  serpent  of  his  soul  already  flown? 

Ver.     He  is  not  dead,  for  yet  his  eyes  doth  roll. 

Chas.     Hold   your   sword   thus;    dip  it,   dig  it, 
do  it. 

Ver.  I  do  fear;  he  stares  at  me,  he  knows  me. 
Roy.  Too  slow  —  ha !  Sister,  Marion,  I  die. 
[On  his  back  hits  VER. ;  VER  falls  and  both  die. 

Enter  MARY  CARROLL. 
Mary.     Where  is  my  brother? 
Chas.  He  is  behind  you. 

[Strikes  MARY  CARROLL;  she  dies. 

[Exit  CHAS. 
Drive  in  several  robbers  led  by  GARRETT. 


102  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

ist  Rob.     Ho!     See!    see!    dead  three. 

Gar.  It's  a  strange  affair. 

Why  I  know  them  all! 

ist  Rob.  What? 

Gar.  I  know  them  not. 

ist  Rob.     Her  wound's  here. 

Gar.  This  I  think  is  her  brother. 

[Addressing  ROY. 

2nd  Rob.     His  hurt  is  here.      [Addressing  VER. 

Gar.  Methought  he'd  die  of  fear. 

Let's  take  them  up  and  lay  them  near  the  road. 
We  must  by  means  report  it  to  the  town.  — 
Blood,  death  and  silence  and  a  hungry  grave,  — 

[Aside. 
3rd  Rob.     She's  not  dead  very  long. 

4th  Rob.  Hurry  on  there.    [To  3rd  Rob. 

[Exeunt  with  the  bodies. 


SCENE  IV.     Apartment  in  a  House.     MARION 
and  HOSTESS. 

Host.     I  crave  my  rent. 

Mar.  There's  a  pearl  upon  thy  nose. 

Host.     I  need  it  now. 

Mar.  It  broke  upon  the  floor. 

Host.     I  am  alone. 

Mar.  All  short,  all  sense,  no  variation ; 

The  commatic  compositions  of  a  boy  in  school. 
Thou  art  as  thin  as  a  grave-yard  spirit; 
Thy  soup  as  thin,  as  thin  as  sin. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  IV.  103 

Thy  skin's  so  tight  the  wrinkles  stint; 
Thy  soul's  so  tense  thy  pitch  is  strange. 
Be  advised  thou'll  eat  three  meals 
Or  more  a  day;    furnish  up  thy  face 
And  move  thy  nose  out  of  the  way. 

I'll  don  my  best,  [Sings. 

Let  beggars  wear  the  rest, 
And  spend  the  night  in  waking. 

Say  soul,  I  go  away  to-day. 
Host.  Dear  me. 

Mar.     There,  take't,  feed't.     I  say  that  to-night 
m  I  die.  [Throws  money  at  her. 

Host.     Dear,  my  good  girl,  dost  mean  anything 
rash? 

Mar.     Good?     Said't?     Paid  I  to  lie?     As  foul 

a  mess 

As  e'er  purity  did  put  its  foot  in. 
Get  out;    you  make  me  hungry  look  at  you. 

Host.     Little  bit  cheery,  just  little  bit  daft. 

[Aside. 

Mar.     He  ogled  me,  I  spat  into  his  eye; 
And  then  I  kicked  his  cane  into  the  air; 
That  muddy  minded,   that  silent  minded, 
That  bald-headed,   old  creeping  reprobate 
Met  me  yesternight  as  I  was  going  out, 
As  he  was  coming  in  to  visit  thee, 
To  smoke  his  pipe  and  kiss  thee  in  his  lap. 
Then  you  tell  the  people  he's  but  your  trustee, 
Confidant,  old  friend  and  adviser. 
I'll  bet  when  he's  frisky,  there's  glee  in  thee; 
When  he's  confidential  thou'rt  near  as  he; 
When  he's  thy  friend  you  know  it  for  a  fact: 


104  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

When  he  acfvises  there's  heat  in  all  his  words; 
When  he  advises  you  think  he  doth  entreat. 

Host.     I  wonder  if  'tis  this  the  neighbors  think  ? 

[Aside. 

Mar.     Go   on;    gums   wet   and   sliding   tongue, 
begone. 

/'//  wear  my  red;  red's  for  frolic; 
Colors  dun  for  the  wedded  drudge: 
I'll  wear  my  red;  red's  for  frolic; 
Black's  better  hauled  before  the  judge. 

Why  don't  you  go?   art  waiting  to  hear  more? 

[To  HOST.     Exit  HOST. 

Ah  who's  to  be  my  pork  to-night? 
Ah,  who  is  he  to  make  me  wince? 
'Tis  thou  dear  Death  wilt  hold  me  tight; 
'Tis  thou's  to  be  my  naked  prince. 

Come  thou  mirror  until  I  fix  my  hat. 

This  dam  skimmed  half  the  silver  from  thy  back. 

Who  art  thou  looking  at  me  in  this  glass? 

Who  art  thou  in  abandon  of  that  eye? 

In  the  red  an  lechery  of  those  lips? 

In  the  vile  disdain  of  that  once  sweet  face? 

Thou  look'st  as  if  a  rotten  egg  had  splashed 

Against  that  picture  once  of  Marion. 

Mother,   for  thy  sweet  sake  to-night  I  die; 

And  squelch  the  serpent  of  my  mad  career. 

Mother,  thou  sweetest  creature  ever  born, 

Behold  thy  daughter  in  her  infamy; 

And  forgive  my  heart  for  the  life  it  lead. 

O  father,  who  I  condemned  to  silence, 

Just  for  the  sending  of  my  John  away, 

O  forgive  the  wretch  who  pleads  thy  daughter. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE  IV.  105 

My  John  forgive  thy  favorite  sister; 

And  whose  blood  like  thine  did  flow  a  rebel. 

Charles,  —  my  misgivings  at  thy  name  are  o'er ; 

Just  forgive  the  girl  who  calls  thee,  brother. 

O   forgive  the  girl  who  calls  thee  lover; 

For  my  fond  soul  to-night  doth  take  its  flight. 

Royal,  my  breath  is  sweeter  in  thy  name, 

Forgive  her  whom  thy  slaughter  made  a  slut. 

You  kissed  me  fair;  ah  would  you  kiss  me  now? 

Would  thy  faith  hold  out  'gainst  my  fallen  state? 

Of  the  depths  of  my  deep  and  silent  grief 

Who  can  guess  of  its  abyss.     O  my  heart! 

How  it  was  shattered  in  thy  going  off; 

O  how  despair  didst  seize  my  inmost  soul ; 

My  life  was  sunk  in  days  of  its  despond! 

Maybe  it  were  better  could  I  have  wept, 

But  the  tears  were  frozen  in  my  blackened  heart ; 

And  sorrow  hails  me  for  a  profligate; 

Drove  sweet  modesty  with  curses  from  me ; 

Strangled  the  angel  of  my  chastity; 

And,  to  make  my  debauchery  more  sad 

Dipped  me  to  my  awful  degradation. 

O  Royal,  what  a  fall!    what  a  damned  fall! 

Now  churlish  women,  these  light-headed  fools, 

As  from  the  heights  of  their  own  rottenness, 

Look  down  on  my  besottedness,  and  now 

When  I  come  in  some  where,  duck  out  from  there, 

And  stick  their  noses  higher  in  the  air 

To  sniff  the  wind  as  if  it  were  corrupt; 

As  if  the  presence  of  the  strumpet  stunk:  — 

With  swish  of  dress  and  skirts  picked  up  pass  out, 

As  they  talk  of  prostitutes  among  them. 

While  men  more  cant,  more  charitable  men 

Upbraid  me  for  a  whore,  upbraid  mind  you. 


106  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Yea,  as  they  smiling  bargain  for  my  soul. 
Re-enter  HOSTESS. 

Host.     I  — 

Mar.         You  look  like  my  seven  years  bad  luck. 
Get  out!     I've  told  thee  thrice  before  to  go. 

[Throws  mirror  at  HOSTESS'  head.  Exit  HOST. 
Ye  walls  collapse,  for  I'll  ne'er  see  ye  more.     [Exit. 


SCENE  V.     An  Inn;   seated,  JOHN  ALMONT, 

Gentlemen  and  others.     Enter  MARION. 

to  another  table. 

At  John  Ahnont's  Table. 

ist  Gent.     I'm  a  dog  on  a  desert.     Where  is  she? 
2nd  Gent.     Hie,    thou    flabby    darling,    shaking 

love!     Ale.  [To  Host. 

ist  Gent.     Ale  here. 

2nd  Gent. .  Order  his  for  John ;  he's  asleep. 

ist  Gent.     Well  then,  you'll  bring  ale  to  the  three 

of  us.  [Exit  Host. 

2nd   Gent.     You  say  this  place  is   famous   for 

its  ale? 

ist  Gent.     No,  say  I  John  is  famous  for  his  stare. 
2nd  Gent.     Is  that  a  tear  there  standing  in  thine 

eye?  [To  JOHN. 

What  explains  that  thing  standing  in  thine  eye? 
John.     Some  dust. 

2nd  Gent.  I'm  sure  some  sadder  particle. 

ist  Gent.     Is  silent  driving  grief  in  construction 


ACT  IV,   SCENE    V.  107 

Here  ?     Turn    him    out !     burn    him  —  no,    drown 

him  out.  [Hostess  returns. 

John.     Who's  she  standing  there? 

2nd  Gent.  Fair  bawd  frequent  here. 

ist   Gent.     Gentle   bred   and   reckless   it   is   her 

curse, 

As  'tis  so  often  in  this  world  of  ours, 
That  charms  did  graciously  attend  her  birth, 
And  attractiveness  dealt  with  her  so  fair. 

John.     My  sister  much;   but  then  a  bud,  in  dews 
Of  these  years  she  there  rivals  her  in  mind. 
A  child  in  faith,  full  and  infinite  grace, 
Do  chimes  recollections  thus  explain  this 
Ecstasy  of  tears.     She  was  of  our  hearts 
The  beats. 

2nd  Gent.     Let's  now  carouse  to  her  long  life. 
John.     Pardon;  who's  that  lady  standing  yon 
der?  [To  Host. 
Host.     Well  you  may  call  her  lady  if  you  like. 
And  if  don't  believe  it  she  will  show  you. 

John.     Who's  that  lady  stands  near  yonder  table  ? 

[To  2nd  Host. 
2nd  Host.     Some  one  lately  called  her  Desperate 

Chance ; 
You  may  get  well,  or  you  may  go  to  hell. 

At  Marion's  Table. 

Mar.     I'll  have  wine,  yea  and  some  one  tell  a  lie. 
My  throat's  parched;    I'm  very,  very  dry. 
But  that  needn't  prevent  you  in  the  least  going 
Ahead  with  the  story.     Some  wine,  boys,  wine! 
My  dinars  drained,  and  ta'en  my  fun'ral  fee; 


108  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Order  fop;    yea  and  I'll  be  thy  Bacchante. 

[Fop  orders. 

At  John  Almont's  Table. 
2nd  Gent.     Wink,   wink  soon  or  thy  lids  will 

never  lock. 
John.     Strangely  same,  similar,  I  can  but  gaze. 

At  Marion's  Table. 
Mar.     Tell't     without    the    date    and     hacking 

proem ; 

An  eclogue  on  the  lea,  yea  something  tucked 
F  the  bosom  of  domesticity; 
For  know  ye  not  that  I  go  home  to-night? 

At  John  Almont's  Table. 

John.     Her  face,  her  face,  her  face;    why  don't 
she  turn! 

At  Marion's  Table. 

Mar.     Make  imagination  manufacture; 
Respire,  bestir  capering  waves  of  wit, 
Or  else  think  I  must,  and  that  I  dare  not! 

At  John  Almont's  Table. 
John.     If  e'er  I  saw  her,  she's  manner's  mimic. 

At  Marion's  Table. 

Mar.     Who  can't  lie  a  little  is  derelict 
Indeed.     Well,  my  honored  hearers,  once  I 
Had  a  lover.     Woe  walked  in  with  a  knife,  - 
Fop.     Thy  story's  old ;    'tis  old ;    thy  lover  died. 
Mar.     Died  ? 

[Throws  wine  in  Fop's  face  and  grabs  his. 

Died? 

[Throws  that  in  Fop's  face  and  grabs  an  other's. 
Ach !   Ach !  thou  scab  unfit  to  crown 


ACT  IV,  SCENE   VI.  109 

His  sore,  —  [Hour  sounds. 

At  John  Almont's  Table. 
John.     See   her  anger,   commotion   there. 

At  Marion's  Table. 

Mar.     Tis    the    hour  —  the    hour  —  the    hour. 
Drink,  girl,  drink. 

[Puts  poison  into  wine;  drinks. 
I  had  intended  tell  thee  how  he  died. 
Behold  this  glass  Royal,  Royal,  Royal; 
E'en  as  thou  didst  perish,  perish,  perish. 

[Glass  drops  to  floor;  she  falls. 
At  John  Almont's  Table. 

John.     Drops.     They    take    her    out.     I    must, 
must  see  her. 

[Exeunt  some  bearing  MAR.,  curious,  all  follow. 


SCENE  VI.     Room  in  Almont's.     CHAS 
ALMONT. 

Chas.  Oh,  what  have  I  accomplished?  accom 
plished  ? 

Life  what  have  you  done?  Life  what  have  you 
wrought  ? 

Oh  what  is  finished  that  was  well  begun? 

Alone  with  all  but  my  grinning  pile  of  gold; 

Friendless,  for  all  whom  I  have  ever  met 

Are  buried,  buried  neath  my  pile  of  wealth. 

A  craped  and  weeping  grief  a  sister  once, 

Love-crazy  ran  away  to  ways  that's  vile. 

The  slaughter  sly  of  her  lover  manly, 

In  draining  flow  dark  rivulets  of  woe. 


110  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Though  louse,  Verness,  and  meanness  in  your  death, 
Through  me  you're  stuck,  and  stick  in  my  remorse. 
Father  poisoned,  brother  banished,  mother  — 
Destruction  nip  him!    pluck  him  where  he  comes! 

Enter  JOHN  ALMONT. 

The  longer  is  unbroken  the  dearer 
Interruption!     Welcome  ship  synonym 
Of  my  sad,  watching  soul.     Welcome!     Welcome! 
Thrice  welcome  my  own  beloved  brother! 

John.     I  have  met  our  sister  Marion  —  met  and 
Buried  her.     With  dread  diseases  on  her, 
Foul,  unclean  and  matterated  harlot, 
Rotten,  rotten  to  the  roots  of  her  hair. 

Chas.     Sister!    my  most  sweet!    most  precious 
sister ! 

John.     That  bad  that  none  did  care  to  handle 

her; 

Buried  away  in  the  clothes  that  she  wore  on. 
It  was  thou  drove  her  to  this  corruption; 
Yea  it  was  thou  didst  sell  her  to  Verness, 
You  well  know  to  wed  she  was  to  Carroll. 
Thy  life  this  day  shall  pay  the  penalty. 

Chas.     It  is  a  lie;    I  never  did  such  thing! 

John.     Thou  great,  big  bed-bug,  big  in  innocence, 
Thou'll  see  I've  chocked  crannies  can  contain  thee. 
This  paper  did  Garrett  take  from  the  corpse 
Of  dead  Verness.     He  likewise  thinks  thou 
Wert  in  on  deaths  of  Carrolls  and  this  wretch. 
After  that  he  positively  asserts, 
He  swears  it  on  his  honor  thou  didst  kill 
Miser  for  the  whom  I  was  driven  off. 

Chas.     Precisely:  You're  a  liar  and  I  know  it. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE   VI.  Ill 

Enter  AGNES. 

Agnes.     A   servant   dying   hath   confessed    that 

thou 
Didst  pay  him  to  poison  of  my  mother. 

Chas.     Ah,  go  thou  to  hell  with  your  damned 

mother!  [Stabs  her. 

John     Villain! 
Chas.  No  truer  word  didst  ever  speak. 

[Fight  and  Exeunt  fighting. 
Enter  GARRETT. 

Gar.     Agnes!     Agnes!     behold  Humility 
Bending  low;    grovelling   for   forgiveness 
Edward  like  a  cur. 
Dear,  let  the  art  of  my  intensity 
Envelop  like  cloud  of  sweet  compassion 
Thy  soul  of  pitying  kindness.     Turn  not 
Thy  head  away  from  Garrett  at  thy  feet; 
Turn  not  from  him  the  light  of  thy  dear  star, 
That  he  yet  may  look  in  heavens  of  his  love. 
O  turn  not  from  Garrett  in  the  anger 
Of  thy  justice  or  he  will  pitch  to  hell; 
O  close  not  the  gate  — 

Agnes.     Hold  up  thy  sin   for  here  my  heart's 

blood  runs. 

Gar.     A  cut!    a  lance  aslant! 
Agnes.  Vindictive  —  deep ! 

Gar.     Dost    die?     Didst    suicide?     Love,    wast 

murder? 

Re-enter  JOHN. 

Agnes.     Tis  he  didst  basely  hit. 
Gar.  Then  'tis  you  did't. 


112  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

John.     No,  no,  no,  he's  dead  did  basely  do  it. 
Gar.     Liar,  thy  ruddy  sword  proclaims  the  deed. 
On  a  spit  thou  shalt  roast  in  hell  to-night! 

[Strikes,  JOHN  falls  and  dies. 

Agnes.     Support  me.     O  Ed  I  am  blind  in  death. 

Gar.     Rouse  reptile  and  for  help!    Help!    oho! 
help!  [Kicking  JOHN. 

Agnes.     WhoYt  did  kill? 

Gar.  John  — 

Agnes.  Mistake.     'Twas  Charles 

did  stab. 

Gar.     Shall  love  empty  in  my  arms?    Help!    ho! 
Help! 

Agnes.     Kiss  me. 

Gar.  So  cold.  [Kisses  her. 

Agnes.  'Tis  sweetness  fills  my  veins. 

Read  —  it.  —  And    I    loved    thee    till    my    last  — 
breath.  [Holds  paper  and  dies. 

Gar.     O  love,  O  love,  my  love,  my  love  art  gone. 
How  royally  sits  highness  on  that  face; 
So  queenly  poised  serene  on  womanhood. 
Thy  hand,  my  lady?     No?     No?     Rigid  — so  — 
There's  my  ring  like  the  shining  hour  wherein 
I  put  it  there;  —  immutably  there, 
Like  the  immutable  thing  it  stood  for; 
Where  I,  infatuated,  put  it  there. 
Ha!    ha!    ha!    I  say,  rememb'rest  my 
Confusion  looking  for't.     Like  parasite 
Wondrous  fixed,  feasting  on  thy  fasting 
Sunning  in  inconstancy  what  torments 
Lived  with  thee,  —  There's  that  other  as  I  live ! 


ACT  IV,   SCENE    VI.  113 

A  vision!    or  my  jewel  I  did  give  — 

Rogue  discovered!     That  smirk  discloses  thee. 

Thou'rt  that  strange  character  i'  the  wilderness, 

That  strange  character  these  years  hath  haunted  me ; 

Did  save  my  life,  this  ring  at  parting  token; 

And  did  charge  me  with  the  woman  of  my  wrongs. 

Art  thou  he,  she  so  near?  —  This  message  clutched. 

With  a  hate  as  fierce  as  flesh  I  hate,  -        [Reads. 

Damnation  seize !  -    'Tis  not !     I  wrote  it  not ! 
Agnes  forgive  —  and  if  I  kneel  she'll  fall  on  me. 
Dead?     In  that  noiseless  surg  of  no  return? 
Down  the  tide  to  fathoms  dark  yond  all  life? 
Why  thy  jaw  droppeth?    those  eyes  thus  opeth? 
Dost  strive  to  see?   hast  breath?    a  secret  yet? 
Dead?     Dead?     I'll   conjure  heaven  and   make   a 

span 

With  hell !     I'll  kindle  thee,  tear  thee  ope  and 
Breathe  in  thee!     Up.     Come  my  pleasant  labor. 
Die?     Ha,  ha.     Hear  my  melancholy  laugh. 

[Exit  with  body. 
Enter  Servant. 

Ser.     Just  as  I  said ;  a  fight.     Two  brothers  too. 
John  returned  and  last  of  the  fam'ly  dead. 

Enter  several  some  with  body  of  CHARLES. 

Gawks,  gawks,  what's  the  matter?     Have  ye  not 

heads  ? 

Place  to-gether  in  the  room.     I'll  report. 
ist  Ser.     This  is  a  nasty  finish  for  this  pair. 
2nd  Ser.     It  means  wind-up  and  shut-down  of 

this  house. 
$rd  Ser.     Have  you  got  him? 


114  EDWARD   GARRETT. 


Ser.  Yes. 

b  Ser.  Hold  on.   Now  then, 

lift.  [Exeunt  with  the  bodies. 


SCENE  VII.     Hut  in  the  Wood.     GARRETT  on 
pallet;    three  Friars. 

Gar.     Though  shakes  —  of  death  —  are  on  me 

—  fear  thee  not. 

In  shades  of  death  —  I  mind  not  the  —  darkness. 
Ye  grinning  jaws  o'  death  —  I  mock  thee  to't. 
Ye  chattering  bones  —  do  ye  fear  me  not. 
Ye  hounds  of  hell  —  ye  who  would  hand  me  fire  - 
Ye  can  not  fright  me ;  —  and  I  despise  thee. 

ist  Fri.     Observe  your  silence;    stand  ye  over 
there.  [Two  friars  remove. 

Gar.     Agnes,  let  me  hope  you  wear  your  rubbers ; 
Agnes,  let  me  hope  you  say  your  prayers; 
That  you  take  that  exercise  I  asked  thee  to: 
That  there's  afways  comedy  in  your  smile; 
And,  Agnes,  that  you  shake  whene'er  you  laugh. 
What  is  that  that  standeth  there  before  me. 

[Wakes. 
Intruding  priest,  intruding  priest,  begone. 

ist  Fri.     Wherefore,  wherefore,  dear  friend,  do 

I  offend? 

Gar.     But  go  not  yet ;    I  want  to  ask  thee  first, 
How  long  have  you  been  here? 
ist  Fri.  A  little  while. 

Gar.     And  did  I  talk  in  my  delirium? 
ist  Fri.     You  did. 
Gar.  And  pray  what  all  did  I  say? 


ACT  IV,  SCENE   VII.  115 

Did  I  speak  about  my  mother,  how  kind 
She  was  to  me?    and  how  scarce  she  would  let 
Me  stray  three  feet  away  from  her?     Did  I 
Recite  any  of  her  old-fashioned  songs? 
My  mem'ry's  long;   did  I  tell  thee  how  she 
Taught  me  how  first  to  walk  and  how  to  talk? 
Tell  me  if  I  called  the  name  mother  once; 
Did  I  give  'bout  my  birth  a  single  word  ? 

ist  Fri.     Of  either  them  you  never  mentioned 

aught. 
You  talked  of  Agnes  — 

Gar.  That  was  my  mother. 

Now  believe  me  —  you  best  — you  best  —  to  go. 

ist  Fri.     Why,  friend,  may  I  not  stay  ev'n  if't 

be  but 
To  serve  thee? 

Gar.     You  better  —  you  better  —  go. 

ist  Fri.     Sir,  sir,  soon  thou  wilt  be  beyond  all 
help. 

Gar.     Sir,  sir,  answer  me  specifically, 
What'st  thy  bus'ness  here? 

ist  Fri.  Succor  and  to  save 

The  cursing,  the  couchless  and  the  crossless. 

Gar.     Their  heart's  abomination,  murder  here 
For  buttons.     Gone  to   fetch  me  medicine 
Soon  return  two  murderous  friends  of  mine. 
So  as  I  told  thee  you  had  better  go.  — 
This  pain  of  mine  is  almost  maddening! 
Strikes  through  me  and  almost  shocks  me  —  speech 
less. 

I  will  not  die !     I  cannot  die !     I  won't ! 
I'll  stand  upon  my  feet  and  defy  it. 
True-hearted  girl,  did  Agnes  die  thus  so. 


116  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Where's  my  dress?   my  something  put  my  legs  in? 
I'm  unsteady  on  my  feet;   'tis  nothing; 
But  simply  I've  not  stood  on  them  for  months.  — 
Hand  me  my  blouse  there;    I  like  it;  'tis  white; 
I  want  to  wear't  in  honor  of  my  love. 
You  need  not  help  me;    I  can  die  quite  alone. 
I'm  used  to't :    I've  lived  always  quite  alone. 
The  birds  are  all  will  miss  me  when  I'm  gone.  - 
Hand  it  to  me;   hand  me  my  black  cravat; 
For  I  must  needs  to  put  my  mourning  on. 
This  little  cravat  cost  ten  men  their  lives: 
For  when  I  rode  in  the  town  to  buy  it, 
They  thought  they  had  me  captured  i'  the  place.  - 
See  my  shoon,  so  clean  and  in  position; 
All  ready  for  my  walk.     These  faithful  dogs 
To  get  me  medicine  have  now  but  gone 
Have  don't  for  me.     My  mother,  thou  villain, 
Had  you  been  but  one  part  as  faithful  I 
Would  not  now  be  dying  here  deserted. 
I  am  rent  with  a  torrent  of  torments! 
And  I  am  spent  with  a  shower  of  pain! 
Hurry  there ;   give  me  my  belt  and  sword  there. 
O  sword,  all  the  blood  you  have  shed  was  vain, 
For  it  could  not  paint  for  me  a  picture 
Guiltier  e'en  than  my  own  sense  of  shame. 
And  all  the  horrid  murders  you  have  done 
Were  done  in  vain,  for  couldst  not  make  my  life 
More  dreadful  than  my  inward  life  of  shame; 
Nor  yet  couldst  thou  build  in  thought  a  horror 
Than  that  thought  always  kept  me  in  its  terror. 
My  dear  horse  I  shall  ride  thee  once  again. 
How  my  sufferings  doth  remind  me  of  thee. 
My  ag'ny  like  steed  doth  plunge  within  me, 
And  rears  and  balks  and  seeks  to  throw  me  off. 


ACT  IV,  SCENE   VII.  117 

ist  Fri.     Garrett! 

Gar.  What  makes  thee  strike  that  strident 

note ! 

Or  is't  my  distress  hollos  in  my  ears? 
Why  dost  sound  that  name  so  peculiarly  ? 

ist  Fri.     He  told  me  that  thou  wert  a  gentleman 
Of  many  parts.     And,  Garrett,  it  was  thou 
Supplied  my  life  from  your  extravagance. 
The  boy  whom  you  left  to  with  that  old  man 
Doth  now  remember  thee,  addresses  thee. 
I  didn't  know  'twas  Garrett,  robber,  helped  me  so; 
But  now  I  humbly  thank  thee  from  my  heart. 

Gar.     Who  are  those  two  devils  over  yonder? 
Thou  dulcet,  honey-tongued  tool  of  Satan, 
Thou'rt  in  a  plot  to  take  me.     But  thou'lt  not ! 

[Stabs  him. 

ist  Fri.     Step  not  too  near  that  violent  man. 

[Rush  fonvard  other  two  friars. 
Garrett  dear,  thou  hadst  no  right  to  kill  me. 

2nd  Fri.     Father,  art  thou  badly  hurt? 

ist  Fri.  In  truth,  yes.  — 

If  there  is  aught  of  virtue  in  my  death, 
Garrett,  'tis  consecrate  to  heaven  for  thee. 
Be  contrite  for  some  act  of  thy  past  life. 
Thou  art  on  threshold  of  eternity, 
And  'tis  necessary  for  to  save  thee. 

Gar.     I  am  very  sorry  that  I  slew  thee. 

ist  Fri.     O  haste  and  be  sorry  to  heaven  for  it, 
And  thy  life's  past  too  many  offenses. 
Shake  hands  in  spirit  with  thy  God  above; 
He's  nothing  if  not  a  Splendid  Fellow; 
Ask  Him  from  thy  manly  heart  forgiveness. 


118  EDWARD   GARRETT. 

Gar.     For  this  priest's  sake,  say,  God,  I  am  sorry. 

2nd  Fri.     He's  dead.  [1st  Friar  expires. 

Gar.  Maybe  it  is  he  doth  but  faint. 

Take  him  and  lave  him  at  that  yonder  spring. 
Pardon  me  for  killing  of  thy  brother. 
Haste,  it  yet  may  be  that  you  may  save  him. 

[Exeunt  friars  with  body. 
Thou  dear  young  man  thou  art  already  saved. 
It  was  shame  thus  that  I  did  strike  thee  down, 
Who  came  to  me  in  mercy  —  my  foster-son. 
Ha,  there  goes  the  death  rattles  in  my  throat. 
Said  I  was  gentleman  of  many  parts. 
He  meant  gentleman  of  many  places. 
The  very  many  places  I  have  been, 
And  this  place  whereunto  I  am  going. 
If  not  upon  the  cross  I  yet  may  die 
Upon  my  horse.  [Mounts  his  horse. 

Ride  in  two  robbers. 
Adieu,  adieu  dear  friends. 
I  only,  only  hope  that  yet  that  in 
The  great  immensity  of  heaven  that  there 
Yet  may  be  room  for  yet  an  other  —  thief.     [Dies. 

ist  Rob.     Hold  him  on  your  side,  I'll  hold  him 

on  mine; 
And  we'll  drive  toward  that  clump  of  chincapins. 

[Exeunt. 


FINISH. 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO—  +>      202  Main  Library 

LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1  -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation  Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


Jill 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 


BERKELEY 


